


From Russia with love

by Stormborn93



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mr. & Mrs. Smith Fusion, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Flashbacks, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Minor Violence, Modern Assassins, Oral Sex, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, References to Drugs, Sex, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormborn93/pseuds/Stormborn93
Summary: Tessa Virtue is one of interpol's top agents, working against the Canton syndicate. Her whole life as an undercover agent has been woven intricately with Scott Moir's, a British intelligence agent, as the two opposing groups try and over throw the devious Marina Zoueva. Things get difficult for the two agents when they are tasked to assassinate each other, and have to face up to their hidden feelings.





	1. The names Moir, Scott Moir.

**Author's Note:**

> So with the recent shift in climate in the fandom, I've found it hard to write them as themselves and as skaters so I've tried to turn to AU as a method of allowing me to escape. You may find that these characters in this story are slightly "out of character" for typical Tessa and Scott, due to this being AU but I hope you enjoy them nevertheless. I was inspired by their walk of fame red carpet outfits, which will feature in a chapter very shortly. I hope you enjoy and I may well come back to "Here's looking at you Kiddo" another time. 
> 
> If you've enjoyed this please do write comments, it always improves my mood and makes me want to carry on writing. 
> 
> Thank you ❤️

_16th June 2018_

_Montmartre_ , _Paris, France_

_Tessa_

Her black Louboutin’s clicked over the white marble as she climbed down the steps of Montmartre. The bells of Sacre-Coeur rung in her ears and pigeons swooped and flocked with the beggars, as she descended to the awaiting car. A sleek, black Porsche 911 had pulled up to the bottom step at right on the chime of 12 noon. Tessa pulled back the door and hastily sank into the cream leather interior as the car sped off into the winding network of crooked Parisian back streets. “Agent Virtue.” Her companion’s thick Quebecois accent purred as he addressed her.

Tessa had been working alongside Patrice Lauzon ever since she was recruited by Interpol over eight years ago, when she was merely 21 years of age. He was a smart and funny soul. His eyes were kind and his face was memorable. His dark skin was sun beaten and weathered, framed by his jet black hair which was streaked with little grey. The gentleman had impeccable taste in suits. Patrice’s black pinstripe Italian two piece stood out against his crisp white shirt and freshly polished brogues, which were so bright that Tessa could almost she her reflection in them.

Patrice had been such an outstanding presence in her life since her recruitment. Especially after the incident that rendered her incapable of professional dancing. He had been a mentor to her throughout her training and had kindly taken her under his wing when he saw the potential in her as an intelligence intern. “Bonjour, Monsieur” She nodded courteously to him as he handed her a thick brown envelope and a sealed smart phone.

Tessa was slightly out of breath as she spoke, her silky black hair tied tightly in a curled ponytail at the nape of her neck; the sleek tendrils slightly damp with sweat from her dash down the stairs. The weather in the Parisian summer was sweltering. At almost 32 degrees Celsius, she was in danger of overheating in her tight black dress; feeling her skin perspire under the heavy fabric. The cool breeze of the car’s air conditioning was welcome as she sunk back into the soft leather.

“We have a new job, _117_ and I think you’re the perfect candidate for the role.” Patrice’s voice was unwavering and even as he used her individual agent code. He wasn’t supposed to choose candidates directly but he knew her skills and work ethic and above all else he trusted her with his life. “You’ll be on the first train to Nice tomorrow; all the necessary arrangements have been taken care of and all the information is in this package.” Tessa felt her stomach clench with anticipation as her fingers twitched as they danced across the surface of the parcel. She was eager to tear open the contents and discover her mission.

Tessa Jane McCormick Virtue or “Agent 117” was one of Interpol’s most highly regarded agents in the covert operations programme which she joined as an intern in 2010. She had been plucked from a pool of bright, fresh faced recruits and taken to every challenge with renewed vigour and a determination that Patrice had never seen before. She had an IQ of 120, could speak and read French, Italian, Russian and English, all fluently despite her Canadian Origin. Tessa could disarm a weapon in 15 seconds and shoot a bullseye target from 1500m with a 9mm hand gun. She was also incredibly strong and flexible; having been a Prima Ballerina in her youth and was a highly proficient figure skater. In short, Agent 117 was a primed killing machine and she had a very important job to do.

The Porsche sped through the streets of luxurious Saint Germain des Prés, the tires hitting the cobbles as they fast approached her apartment.The car pulled up outside her lavish town house on Rue Visconti. “Au Revoiur, Monseiur.” Tessa shook Patrice’s hand as she climbed out of the car and ascended the white marble stairs to her lavish front door. “Stay safe, ma chérie.” These were his last words to her as he pulled away and was swallowed in the madness of Parisian rush hour.

Tessa’s home was her sanctuary. Her hallway was clean and white, the careful balance of pristine yet cosy. She tapped the control panel and disabled the remote trigger alarm system; a lifetime of flitting through the shadows of the underworld tends to make you more cautious with your own safety. Tessa dropped her Louis Vuitton handbag onto the kitchen table, before sliding her gun from its holster on her thigh and placing it beside the bag. She then made her way upstairs, letting her bare feet sink into the plush grey carpet.

She was so eager to see what her next mission entailed that she took the steps two by two, her fingers grazing swiftly over the keypad in the hallway, then her thumb print was flashing on the panel; allowing a section of wall to slide open. This revealed the entrance to an antechamber behind the hallway, that was her secret hideaway and office. The stark lights flickered as she entered the windowless room and laid the unassuming package on the table. Her fingers twitched before carefully ripping the brown paper and spilling the contents of the package out in front of her.

There laying on the white marble countertop were several key items for her mission. The first was a French diplomatic passport; her new identity for the job. Her fingers flicked through the holograhic pages, fluttering between Tessa and now a Mademoiselle Roseanne Fournier. The name may have been different but her own stern face stared back at her from the identity page.

Next to the passport lay a small and unassuming silver disc; the holographic projection of her mission. Tessa’s fingers ghosted over the silver disc and Patrice’s voice appeared as if he were standing beside her. “Agent 117, we know that you have had dealings with the Canton syndicate before and we have reason to believe that a certain British intelligence agent has gone rogue and is working alongside the devious Marina Zuenova to carry out acts of terrorism around the globe and support illegal sex and drug trafficking. We would like you to dispatch this agent as soon as possible. We know that he will be attending a casino event in Nice on Wednesday night and that is where you will find him. His picture is inside the envelope.”

With Patrice’s words etched in her mind, her slim fingers fumbled with the thick envelope revealing a small folded photograph of her next target. She carefully unfolded the delicate paper and swallowed hard when she saw the man looking back at her in the picture. She immediately dropped the photograph onto the table, as though it had burnt her. Tessa’s heart raced as she fingered the thin paper, bringing it to the light and studying the piercing hazel eyes that looked back at her. He was older than the last time she had seen him but his jaw line was still strong, his nose high and his hair longer and floppier. Her stomach flipped at the thought of the first time she had met the boy who had stolen her heart. She quivered at the thought that now he was her intended target.

 

_16th June 2018_

_London, England_

_Scott_

His fingers gripped the cut glass tumbler, as the golden liquid swirled in the bottom of the glass. His navy tie was shoved deep in his pocket with his dark blazer hanging open. Scott nursed his whisky, the deep smoked flavour hitting the back of his throat as he swallowed hard. The busy bar in central London was packed with Friday night city workers. Scott didn't often frequent these places, instead preferring the anonymity of his townhouse, but you could say that he had a rough day at the office.

He had been called into the office at 6pm for a briefing with Marie-France Dubreil, the head of British Intelligence, for his next mission. Usually Scott was excited at the prospect of a challenge, but this time the whole plan had filled him with dread. He could still hear Maire-France’s voice in the back of his mind as he stared at the photograph of his target that was projected on the wall. He swallowed another gulp of burning alcohol as he tried to block out the incessant buzz in the bar around him. Scott couldn’t stop staring at the photo of his target on his phone screen. There were many beautiful young women all around him in the bar and he was sure he could have taken any of them home with him tonight, but the photograph in his hand was haunting him.

She looked older than the last time he saw her but still incredibly stunning. In the picture, her dark hair was loose and cascading around her shoulders. Her face was slightly more angular but her wild emerald eyes stood out like jewels in a crown. She was still the singularly most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on, and now she was his target. His head was spinning, the whisky numbing the rapidly firing neurones in his mind. His hands gripped the glass tighter as he thought back to the first time he had ever met her.

 

_19th Feb 2010_

_Moscow, Russia_

_Scott_

Moscow had never been one of Scott’s favourite places. The city was still clinging onto its desperate soviet past. The acrid wisps of treachery and societal misery hung in the air, as Scott made his way through the dark streets to the theatre where his first mission would commence. Scott knew that he would be one of many international agents at the event tonight with the same specific instructions. His palms were clammy as he loaded his Glock 19. His fingers quivered across the trigger, mentally preparing himself for the night to come. His first kill, his first mission. Stay calm and keep a level head. The words of his mentor Paul MacKintosh, his mentor, ran through his head.

Tonight, felt like the biggest night of his life. His heart pounded in his chest, his head was swimming with recollections of his training. The long gruelling hours that he had been put through with the SAS to stand him in good stead for his opening night. He knew he could do this but his heart was still thumping wildly. Scott’s collar felt tight under his bow tie, his cufflinks dug into his wrists as he walked up the red carpet to the illustrious Bolshoi Theatre. Scott surveyed the area, always on the watch for his target. He checked the time; 8.45pm. It was showtime.

The theatre was packed to the rafters with spectators for tonight’s ballet. Scott watched carefully for his intended target. The man that he was supposed to be dispatching was known as Jonny Johns. He was the co-leader of the largest organised crime syndicate in Europe; headed up by the notorious Marina Zoueva. Maria was well known to MI6, with her organisation spanning 16 different countries and carrying out human and drug trafficking across the globe. Now Marina was dealing arms and it was suspected that she had access to nuclear weapons and Jonny was the man with the launch codes. It was Scott’s job to get them back with minimal attention and assassinate the carrier of the codes to prevent the weapon being utilised by the syndicate.

He slipped up to the bar and ordered himself a vodka martini, shaken not stirred. Then he watched and he waited patiently to ascertain his target, retrieve the codes and dispatch the carrier. The sharp sting of vodka hit the back of his throat and caused him to splutter, as his eyes were drawn to the hallway. There standing on the stairs was the most beautiful woman that Scott had ever set eyes on. Her long dark hair was tied tightly in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, she wore a long white ball gown with a deep v, exposing her pale skin and a hint of her breasts. Her gown was lavishly embroidered in jewels, but Scott were drawn in by her sparking green eyes that were currently surveying the theatre.The ushers startled him and he had to compose himself, tearing his eyes away from the mystery woman and taking a deep breath as they were called into their seats for the performance to begin.

* * *

 

One half of the performance down and Scott was closer to getting those codes. He had spiked Johns drink at the bar, causing the man to have blurred vision and an element of confusion. Johns stumbled into the mens toilets in his stupor and Scott was quick to follow after him. He watched the seemingly ‘drunk’ man fumble with his zipper at the urinal and relieve himself, humming away casually. Scott hung back and waited for him to round the corner. Jonny stumbled as he saw Scott in the narrow space, to which Scott seized his opportunity and pressed himself into his target, pushing him against the wall. “Careful there, mate.” Scott put on his best American accent as he seemingly steadied Johns. To an outsider it looked like a drunk man had just stumbled into someone who helped him get out of the bathroom but Scott had slid his hand into the man’s jacket and pinched the wallet in his breast pocket.

He smashed the barrel of his pistol sharply into Jonny's left temple and left him slumped in a bathroom cubicle, unable to properly dispatch his target with so many people in the area. He would have to go back later and finish the job. He opened the door to the cubicle and took out the wallet. A black leather square with two embossed gold J’s on the front. Scott opened it and felt around for a hard object in the lining. Sure enough, he felt a hard disk underneath the silk lining of the wallet. Scott pulled out a 3mm blade from the side of his phone and slipped the sharp edge under the silk, ripping it to expose the drive underneath that contained the codes. He wondered who exactly Johns would be selling those to tonight. Scott listened to the footsteps echo into silence before he let himself out of the cubicle and rejoined the main theatre.

As he came from the bathrooms, Scott caught a visual of the female that he had been watching most of the evening. He was just about to resume his seat in the audience for the second act, as he watched her lithe figure disappear behind the side curtain and almost immediately Scott noticed that Johns was staggering out of the mens bathroom and heading towards the backstage area. Scott quickly headed from his seat as fast as he could, still trying to maintain his composure and not attract unnecessary attention. He darted over to the side of the stage and pulled back the curtain and pressed the communication device in his ear to alert his team waiting outside in their getaway vehicle to try and gain a visual on his target.

The intercom was crackly as Scott ran through the bowels of the theatre. The soles of his smooth black evening shoes echoed heavily against the solid wood. Scott knew he had to follow her, he had a hunch that something wasn’t right. He sped down the fire escape stairs and pushed through the stage door following the sound of high heels against the floor. She was fast, but he was onto her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a door to his left swing shut. Scott’s heart was beating wildly from his chest. He was nervous but adrenaline was pulsing through his whole body. His hand shook as he slowed to a halt and pulled his gun from its holster on his belt, looking around his peripheries for potential attackers. His body shuddered as he heard the sound of two silenced gunshots in quick succession and the thud of a body falling to the ground.

For some reason the thought of the beautiful woman having been shot filled Scott with a kind of dread that he had never felt before. Even though he didn’t know her and had never met her, when their eyes locked at the bar earlier in the evening he felt like somehow they were inexplicably linked. Where had he seen her face before? Surely, he would have remembered such piercing green eyes. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open slightly, creeping through the threshold to find her there before him. She was kneeling on the cold concrete, beside the body of an older man in a tuxedo, who Scott quickly identified as his own target; Jonny Johns. The deceased man lay prostrate on the hard ground, a single bullet wound in the middle of his head and one on his chest, causing an alarmingly large pool of dark red blood to ooze from the body and gather on the floor.

From Scott’s vantage point behind the woman, she seemed calm and collected. Despite having just shot and killed someone, not a hair seemed out of place on her head. Her body was folded away from the blood, so not to stain her immaculate dress and a slim Beretta 92FS was lying just beside her right thigh. She was right handed and Scott had to be cautious because this woman was obviously a professional. Although, she hasn’t heard him come in behind her, which was a rookie error on her part seen as Scott was armed and dangerous. He watched her rummage through Johns blazer looking frantically for something. Scott’s heart was pounding as he watched the woman desperately searching the body. Her hands worked methodically, through John’s jacket and trouser pockets. She still had yet to realise that Scott was standing behind her and that he had a loaded gun in his hand while hers was discarded next to her as she knelt on the floor.

All around them delicate hum of Mahlers 5th Symphony surrounded them, as the ballet performance had commenced. The delicate music effectively drowned out the sound of Scott’s footsteps while he crept closer to the crouching woman. He took a deep breath, trying to control his nerves as he pressed the butt of the gun to the back of her head. “Don’t move.” His voice came out deep and gravelled, as he held his nerve watching the woman freeze in shock. Her hands immediately stopped the search and raised above her head. “Who are you?” He barked out at her not watching to attract attention but wanting to maintain control over the situation. He thought she might remain silent and just ignore his questions but instead she laughed and it was the most beautiful ringing pearls of laughter Scott had ever heard. Her laugh was a raucous explosion of sunshine that he hadn’t expected such a petite women to be capable of.

He pressed the gun harder against her head trying to shake her resolve, stunned at how she was so calm in the situation. His hands tried not to shake as he held the gun with sweaty palms. “Wouldn’t you like to know agent Moir?” He could almost hear the grin on her face as she spoke. Her voice was high and so eloquent with a clear Canadian accent. He knew how beautiful this girl was, he desperately wanted to move around and look her in those bright green eyes. He really didn’t want to kill her but if he had to then it was the job. He must take back the launch codes to Marie-France. Thankfully, unbeknown to the mystery woman, these were tucked inside the pocket of Scott’s tuxedo, from his earlier interaction with Johns. The woman on the floor had caught him so off guard by knowing his name that he was having a hard time controlling the narrative of the current situation, also aware that anyone could find them right now and Johns had a lot of people after him.

“How do you know me?” He tried so hard to control the gun and the wavering in his voice. The woman waited and almost toyed with her answer. “Wouldn’t you like to know Moir.” She was playing so smug with him, it was almost as though she didn’t have a gun to her head. Her dark hair was still so neatly in its bun, as Scott moved the gun around her head to face her, pointing the weapon against her smooth forehead. She looked up at him from where she knelt on the floor, her wide emerald eyes startling him instantly. She was striking and Scott couldn’t take his eyes off her. He could feel himself starting to lose control as his breathing increased, her eyes maintaining contact with his as they stared at each other.

Her tongue darted out to wet her pink lips, making Scott struggle to keep his concentration on holding the loaded gun to her forehead. “Who are you?” He asked her again, softer this time. “I’m your worst nightmare.” She laughed again like this was some game. “Just tell me!” Scott was getting exasperated and pressed the gun harder to her head. Just like that they were completely out of time for games. The next thing he heard was shouting in Russian and the thundering of heavy footsteps along with the loading of guns. They were about to be discovered next to a body, and a body that was mixed up in all sorts of Russian underground business. Scott didn’t want to get killed or exposed on his first job and he’d be damned if either of them ended up rotting in some Russian prison because they didn’t get out in time.

All of Scott's training was swimming round his head as he wrapped his hand around her bicep and pulled her to her feet, he kept his gun out just in case. “Grab your gun we have to go.” She dutifully picked it up and then tugged herself away from him, the pair running behind the wood framing of the ancient theatre to escape the thugs on their tail. The dark haired woman was running remarkably well in her black heels and Scott had run hard and fast to keep up with her. They ran behind the stage and heard the thundering applause for the finish of the ballet performance. Her hand reached his as she pulled them through the back of an emergency exit and out onto the snowy streets of Moscow. He pressed his coms device frantically for a pick up but he just kept getting static. He was so frustrated but still desperately trying to follow the girl in the white dress through the snowy streets.

They had to avoid lurking monitor cars and needed to make it across the park. Once a safe distance from the theatre they regained their composure. They slowed to a stroll and she offered him her arm to link, so that they appeared casual while crossing the park. Her pale skin almost glimmered under the streetlights. Goosebumps covered her arms, shoulders and neck. Scott tried his comms again and he watched as she clicked hers. The woman took her phone from her clutch and tried to get a hold on her team but it seemed impossible. They clung to the shadows, still arm in arm, Scott could feel her erratic breathing and warm body pressed against his. Suddenly a beat up old car turned the corner and flashed its full beams right at them. That had been found out. The car doors opened as the Russian shouting began. Scott and his female companion split up and sped for the nearby subway and slid underground, taking the first train that arrived at the platform.

 

* * *

 

 

He thought they had escaped, when there was no sign of their pursuers and the train was quiet, but he was wrong. The train carriages were almost empty except for a few late night stragglers and then two huge men with thick beards and dark hats who sat opposite each other a little way down the train. Scott felt his gun in its holster, ready to pull the trigger when needed. They were sat in silence, not yet safe enough to speak. He saw her eyes flash between the men and her own weapon which was safely in her clutch bag. They were approaching another station and they knew they needed to act fast. There was already a hit on them. He felt her icy fingers dance over his jacket sleeve, why hadn’t they split up? Why was she still here? He had so many questions floating around his head, so many answers that he needed from her.

He couldn’t look up at her yet, he kept his eyes on his shoes, but was watching the two burly men at the end of the carriage from the corner of his eye. He supposed that two sets of eyes on their pursuers was better than one. The train was slowing, time was ticking, her finger drummed a steady beat on his arm which was sending his pulse through the roof. This was it, this was there shot or they died. The ancient train car spluttered to halt and the doors creaked open. Just like that the two men were on their feet heading toward Scott and the woman. The pair of them pulled their weapons and hit the Russians square in the chest; both of their attackers fell to the ground like sacks of potatoes. Scott grabbed her hand again and pulled her from the train cart. Some of the other passengers were screaming and shouting, getting off the train. Scott had a singular focus. Get as far away as possible.

He wasn’t so familiar with the district they were in, but his companion seemed as though she was. She pulled him off the main road and down a side street. The temperature was so low now and the pavement thick with snow. Her feet must have been freezing in her black high heels. They crossed the road and headed down a small alleyway. Both of them kept vigilant for cars and on foot pursuers. Who knew how many thugs Marina had in her command? The woman he was with slid her cold hand around his bicep and tugged him towards a door. Scott could hear laughter, music and singing. Down the alleyway was a door propped open with several smokers huddled outside. Inside there seemed to be a party going on.

The girl asked him to wait and walked up to the men and women smoking outside the door. She spoke fluent Russian, her accent smooth and thick but slightly acerbic. It wasn’t her first language, but it was one she was very skilled in. Scott hung back and waited. His chest was heaving from their running, his body was soaked in sweat, his white dress shirt sticking to the lines of his abdomen beneath his tuxedo. He was surprised he could feel his toes in his oxfords; it was that cold. The dark haired woman, shared a joke with one of the men, took a long drag from one of their cigarettes and then beckoned for Scott to come inside the room with her. He tentatively followed, his hand close to his gun in case she was tricking him; after all he knew she was also an assassin and he knew he had what she was after.

Inside the room was filled with music and dancing. A wedding reception was in full flow. The room was packed to the rafters with raucous Russians celebrating. They blended in instantly with the crowd in their evening wear. His companion stood out a little in her white dress as the disco lights kept hitting her diamonds, creating the most lustrous effect on her body. She really was breathtaking and Scott had to keep focused on the task at hand. He needed to find a way back to his team with the launch codes. He checked his phone but it was out of power. He knew she had a phone, which maybe he could use for a pick up but he had so many questions for her. He was stopped in his tracks when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched for his gun as he turned around and saw her standing there with two tumblers of vodka in her hand. “I think we deserve this.” He could barely hear her above the din of the party but he gladly accepted the drink, letting the cold alcohol burn his throat and the subsequent warmth bloom in his chest.

They sipped in silence before she set her empty glass down with purpose. “Do you dance agent Moir?” She looked up at him through her thick lashes, her neat bun coming apart at the edges, letting a few tendrils of dark hair fall in her face. “I can dance if that’s what you want, but I need to know who you are first.” He was trying to be serious with her. He still needed to ascertain if she was a threat to him or not. She was being cheeky and daring, her voice breaking into a sweet giggle. “I’m afraid that’s for me to know and you to find out, but I’m going to dance all the same.” He watched her gracefully turn on her heels and head into the crowd of people swaying on the dance floor. The music was cheesy 80s pop and music that he was mostly unfamiliar with but Scott just had to follow her. He was dangerously treading water on his first mission and he knew he should just bolt and get in contact with the team for a pick up, but there was something about this woman that intrigued him deeply.

He sucked in a breath and tipped back the last of his vodka, as he made his way over to find her on the dance floor. It took him no time at all to find her. She was shimmering under the disco ball, her body bending in time with the music. The rhythms making her swing and sway in the throng of people dancing. She was graceful, elegant and stunning to watch; Scott couldn’t take his eyes off her as she moved around the dance floor. She was slim, her lines were clean and fluid, her rhythm impeccable. She noticed him watching her and looked up to face him. He couldn’t really see the brightness of her eyes in the dark room but he noticed her wide smile and the way her eyes and nose creased as she laughed. She was genuinely having fun. She threw her head back and raised her arms over her head, laughing with the other guests around her.

Damn! Scott was gone. He was hook, line and sinker for this woman. The music slowed and a waltz came on. The bride and groom took the floor first, Scott had almost forgotten that he was in a bizarre wedding reception with no one he knew on his first agent job. He had taken his eyes off her and didn’t feel her hand snake to his back. “Care to dance agent Moir?” She almost purred at him, her warm body pressed against his back. He reached out and took her hand in his, leading her out onto the dance floor. Her hand was cold in his, her skin soft and her body warm as she pressed against him. He could feel her heart racing, her could see her smile as they turned around the room. She knew how to dance as he led them effortlessly around the floor. She was always following in time, their steps matching and never faltering. It was as though they were meant to dance together, her fingers entwined with his, her thousand watt smile glowing in the dark room. Scott felt alive, his body tingled as the vodka flowed through his veins.This woman in his arms gave him a sense of weightlessness and made him forget the outside world.

The music slowed and his hand slid lower on her back, she pressed herself in closer to him, tucking her head against his chest. She fit perfectly under his chin as their bodies swayed softly to the music. He knew with every fibre in his being that he shouldn’t be here with her. He should take her in for questioning, he should have fled the scene of the crime without her but she was drawing him in over and over again like a junkie desperate for a hit. She enthralled and enchanted him, he leaned down and pressed his nose to her soft dark hair, the scent of her sweet perfume permeating his nostrils. He felt so attracted to her as she swayed her hips sinfully against him. He could feel his fingers sliding through the silky fabric of her white dress. The back was open and he started drawing small circles on her back with his fingertips, just tracing around and around as they danced.

He wanted her with every fibre of his being. He wanted to get to know her, he wanted to be friends with her but above all else right now he wanted to kiss her. She seemed to sense his desires as she looked up at him from her position against his chest, her forest green eyes glowing under the disco lights. They stared at each other as they twirled, green meeting hazel as two worlds collided. She made the first move tentatively leaning upwards and he met her lips with his own. Her lips were soft and warm, his mouth opened slightly to let her slide her tongue inside as she deepened their kiss. Her breath was hot and needy against his own, their mouths enjoying the new sensation of each other. They carried on swaying with all the couples as they kissed but they drew each other closer, Scott could feel her trembling against him. He was trying desperately to stop himself getting hard but it was so difficult with this gorgeous woman grinding against him.

He felt her hands thread through his hair at the back of his neck, his palms moved from her lower back to cup her neck and face as they kissed more and more erratically. Scott needed her, he forgot all about where they were and what his job was. He needed to see her naked and stretched out for him. He wanted to worship her and make her body sing. His mind was awash with swirling imagines of her in that dress. They broke their kiss and he spun her around, listening to the bells of her laughter ringing out. Everyone was clapping and cheering as they kissed, yet they didn’t know anyone in the room and they were just strangers to one another. The DJ changed the song and his female companion slid her hand in his and gave him a sharp tug. There was a wicked glint of lust in her wide green eyes and Scott couldn’t help but follow her willingly.

They made their way through the crowd and past the disheveled buffet table towards the toilets. The stark neon lighting in the toilets did little to bring Scott back to reality as she locked the door of the stall and pressed him against the chipboard wall. She captured his lips in a fit of frantic passion, her silver clutch bag swinging from her wrist as she gripped his shoulders. Scott gave her all he had, kissing her back with a desire that he had never felt for anyone else before. This woman was something else, she was beautiful and smart, lethal and bold. She was kissing him as if her life depended on it, her teeth grazing his lip and clashing into his own as she pulled him against the dirty wash basin.

Without breaking their heated kisses, Scott gripped her tiny waist with both hands and lifted her up onto the counter, sliding in between her legs. His cock was so hard against his suit trousers, straining against her as she wriggled her body towards him. He was going to lose his mind if she kept grinding on him like that. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the long forgotten hint of perfume. His mouth grazed her collarbone making her sigh and whine as her hands gripped his jacket. She shucked his jacket over his shoulders and the expensive suit fell to the floor. They both paused a second when Scott’s gun holster was exposed. They looked at each other with their eyes wild and their lips swollen and just giggled. Scott unbuckled his gun belt and laid it on his jacket.

Coming back to settle between her slightly open legs. His mouth hovered over her ear. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” He gently mouthed her earlobe with his teeth making her sigh and moan. “What do you want to know ?” She teased as her fingers gripped his hair tightly. “How do you know my name?” He peppered tiny kisses down her neck and exposed shoulders, his hands cradling her delicate face. “I know everything. I know all about you.” His hands slid down her body, grazing her breasts ever so slightly and making her body quiver. Scott slid his warm palms back up her pale legs, bunching her dress at her hips as he went. Her legs were graceful and lean. He was sure she had been a dancer or was a dancer with all those elegant muscles. He could feel her breath faltering as his hands crept higher and higher. Her white silk gown was now bunched at her hips exposing all of herself to him. He looked up into her eyes, before asking for her permission for him to continue.

She nodded, looking more bashful than anything, as her cheeks and neck flushed a delightful pink. A stark contrast to her pale skin and the glimmering white of her evening gown. Scott shuddered out a breath as he let his fingers caress the soft skin where her thigh met her hip, his fingertips danced over the delicate white lace that covered her centre. He could feel how warm her skin was, the pulse point in her groin hot and inviting. He leant forward and kissed her roughly as he slid two fingers over the middle of her silky underwear. She was so wet; he could feel the damp material so clearly underneath his hot fingertips. He felt her body shudder as she moaned into his neck. “God you feel so good. Tell me what you want.” He caressed her neck with his lips, inviting her to tell him all her fantasies.  He was just about to slip a finger in the side of her underwear feeling her properly for the first time when her hot breath was in his ear as she whispered to him. “I really really want you to fuck me agent Moir... but I need those codes more.” Before he could even look up at her, there was a sharp sting in his neck and his vision began to blur. He pulled away from her body, stumbling backwards against the wall of the cubicle. The room was spinning and everything was becoming a white blur. The last thing he saw was her green eyes as she stood over him, his eyelids blinking slowly.

Scott’s head was pounding when he woke. His body felt much older than his youthful 23. He was finally back in the comms truck with his team. Marie-France Dubreil was sat beside the seat that he was slumped in. He scrambled up with shock at his surroundings. Marie-France, pushed her hand through his short, yet floppy hair, soothing him slightly from his initial shock. “What an earth happened?” He was so startled, he was sure he had just been in a ramshackled bathroom stall with the most beautiful woman he had ever met. If it had all been dream he would be so annoyed. “It seems that you met interpol’s Agent Virtue.” Scott rubbed his face with his hands before he noticed the mark on his wrist. There, as bright as day was the initials TV alongside a bright red lipstick mark in the shape of a kiss. Scott traced his index finger over the letters, pressing harder at the lipstick where she had kissed his wrist. He was snapped back to reality when Marie France spoke. “Ah yes, Tessa Virtue is the brightest intern at Interpol and she’s also your worst nightmare.” Scott was mesmerised by her cursive script on his wrist and the feeling of her skin underneath his lips. He was so pissed that he had lost the codes and ultimately failed on his first mission but he was hypnotised by his meeting with Tessa Virtue. He needed to see her and he needed to see her again soon.


	2. Nobody puts Virtue in a corner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to @virtuesmoirs for Beta reading this for me. I appreciate you so much! This chapter is dedicated to my girl Alex who loves Hip Hip Chin Chin! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I loved reading all your comments on the last one they really encourage my writing so thank you. 
> 
> Also please note there is a trigger warning for a very tiny flashback of non-consent. I'll put a little asterisks before the paragraph so if you wish to skim over please do.

_17 th June 2018  _

_Mayfair, London, UK_

_Scott_

 

The early morning sunshine flooded the landing of Scott’s London townhouse. The proximity to Hyde Park meant that he was regularly awakened by the London dawn chorus; a mixture of sweet British bird calls juxtaposed with the racket of overhead aeroplane jets and blaring horns. Scott buried himself further inside his soft duvet, enveloping his body in the warm, downy fabric and willing sleep to find him again.

 

Scott had lived in England ever since he was a child. He was originally born in a small town in Ontario, but was brought over to London when he was just a small child, after his parents were tragically killed in a car accident.  At the tender age of three years, he was flown over to the UK to live with his estranged Scottish grandfather, affectionately known as G-Mac, in a small bungalow just near Harrow. G-Mac had raised Scott and taught him all he knew about life. He taught him how to love, the importance of looking after your money, of being ambitious and most importantly, how to be a good person. He was the kindest and most sincere person that Scott had ever known and he missed him terribly, since his passing last year.

 

Just as he was slipped back into a dreamless sleep, Scott’s antique grandfather clock chimed heavily letting him know that it was 6am. At this point, Scott had no choice but to be awake. He couldn’t put off facing this day any longer. He stretched out in his huge bed, letting his limbs crack and groan, he really did feel 30 years old sometimes. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting his mind relax as he went through his morning ritual. He concentrated so hard to picture the tiny brass cogs whirring inside the ancient oak clock. He could individually identify each tiny piece that made the clock chime; the hammer, the bell, and the heavy metronome that ticked deep inside.

 

Scott could remember when he bought the piece from Sotherbys last year after his Grandfather passed away. Clocks and clock making were such huge hobbies of his grandfather’s that he just had to have something in the house to hold his memory. The clock was a dominant feature in his townhouse, the gentle hourly chime keeping him company in the large and silent house. He took another deep breath and pulled back the quilt ready to face to world.

 

Today was the day. The day that he was going to see her again. Usually at this point he was filled with a deep and delightful anticipation. The kind that makes your stomach flutter and your toes curl. The type of want and need that penetrates deep into your soul. Every time he had willed for her to be there; every mission in the last 8 years he had wanted to see her silky dark hair and stare into her gorgeous green eyes. Every time he got the call from Marie-France, there was part of his heart that fluttered slightly at the thought of possibly seeing her, but this time he was filled with a trepidation that he had never felt before a mission. This time he knew he was going to see her beautiful face, but this time he had to kill her before she killed him.

 

His flight this afternoon was at 4pm, which gave him enough time to go for a run to clear his head and pack. He pulled on his under armour training gear, grabbed a banana and was off out of the door. He flicked on his Bluetooth headphones and Eminem started off his run through Hyde Park. The steady beat of _Lose Yourself_ echoed through his brain, letting his feet set the pace to the music. The graphic words and the lyrics permeated right through him, telling his mind to focus.

 

His brain wanted to draw on all the senses around him and distract from his anxieties. He hit the park with speed, his right foot thundering down on the gravel as he skirted the serpentine, before pushing sharply off on his left and propelling himself cleanly and efficiently through the park. If Scott Moir was one thing he was an efficient man. He was also highly driven, passionate (some would say overly), hardworking and determined. All qualities that made him perfect for the secret service.

 

Scott remembers when he first met Marie-France Dubreil, the director of MI5, when he was fresh out of University. Scott had graduated from the University of Oxford, with first class honours in Law and Politics. He still remembered the delight on G-Mac’s face as Scott stood up on stage to receive his degree. The picture of the two of them, Scott in his robes and G-Mac grinning proudly, was sat atop the mantelpiece of his living room. 

 

Scott remembers the day so vividly, especially the moment when his grandad presented him with one of his most cherished possessions, a small Toronto Maple leafs pin badge with his name on. G-Mac knew that it had belonged to Scott’s late father, which made it all more special. It wasn’t a grand token but Scott remembers his grandad pressing the cool metal into his hands and telling him to ‘Take Chances, Be Bold.’ Those were the words that his grandfather taught him to live by.

 

After Oxford, Scott took a high-flying city job as a banker at Goldman-Sachs. He was working all hours, sometimes 12 hour days and then living it up partying on his weekends, but he was good at the numbers game. His mind was razor sharp and he knew exactly where to invest and how much he could gain. Scott was also a huge schmoozer and loved to entertain clients. He had a penchant for the finest dining in the city and when it came to his clients, Scott spared no expense. One of his clients was Marie-France Dubreuil. She had approached him at a dinner in Helsinki in 2009 when he was just a tender 21 years old, to ask him to invest in her fashion line. He was flawed by her the first time he saw her and she now loved to tease him about how he reacted to her back then.

 

You couldn’t deny it Marie-France was stunning, her short dark hair was fiercely cropped around her face, her figure petite and her dark eyes wide and doe like. She had such an air of elegance but also a ferocity and Scott was immediately drawn to her. He liked to think he had a way with the ladies, he loved and respected all women but his real kryptonite was petite brunettes but Marie-France was older and much more seasoned at the game, which frustrated Scott. He remembered her walking across the ballroom in a floor length golden dress, her skin tanned and radiant; drawing all heads as she entered.  She spent most of the evening ignoring Scott’s advances and flirting with another man, who Scott later learned was Patrice Lauzon, the director of Interpol and Tessa’s boss, before slipping her business card into the pocket of Scott’s dinner jacket inviting him to meet with her about ‘career opportunities’.

 

Marie-France offered Scott something that no one else could, a chance to shine and make a difference to the country he loved. Scott immediately swapped the raucous trading floor for silently creeping through the shadows. He kept the money, as it turns out assassination and banking are equally lucrative businesses. Scott couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, as he ran through the park. Sometimes he had to pinch himself to believe that this was his reality. The song on his phone changed to Sia, _Unstoppable_ and suddenly his mind flashed to her, to the woman he was so desperate to see but so desperate to avoid at the same time.

 

He could hear her voice ringing in his head, speaking the lyrics to unstoppable. He could hear her voice whispering in his ear, could feel the soft brush of her breath against his temple as the words flashed through his brain. The heat in his body suddenly became unbearable as he ran and ran until his lungs felt like they would burst free from his body. His tanned skin was damp and shining with perspiration as he sped up the pace to the climatic chorus. In his mind, it was Tessa’s hands constricting around his neck as he ran faster. He could feel the weight of her body in his hands, the beat of his heart erratically in tune with hers as he sprinted around the corner. Gosh, he really needed to get out of his head before this mission.

 

Scott stopped at the park café and leant over to catch his breath. His damp floppy hair was spread haphazardly across his forehead, so he ran his fingers through it to tame it back and swept the perspiration off his forehead with his sleeve. His body was trembling slightly after the exertion of sprinting through the park. He kept his body in excellent condition at all times to maximise his success in missions but he pushed himself harder and harder each day; good was never good enough for Agent Moir. He leant against the metal park railings to cool off and regulate his heart rate, which was beating violently in his chest.

 

Scott closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, trying to push away the thoughts of Tessa that were swimming around in his mind. He could picture her so vividly, that he could almost smell her perfume on his skin. It had been 8 month since he had spoken to her, since he had touched her skin, since his lips had mapped their course over her lean body. He clenched his fists into his workout top, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to steady himself. He needed to be on top form to see her tonight and these wild images were just clouding his brain.

 

Scott composed himself and walked to the café. He knew he would see Bryony, the girl who served him coffee every day. She was in her early 20s and super sweet with blonde curls and tiny freckles covering her tanned skin. Scott suspected she had a little crush on him because she always gave him 10% off his coffee, but he wasn’t going to complain. Bryony looked up from the counter as he walked in, the pink blush spreading over her cheeks as she gave him a tiny wave.

 

“Morning Mr Baker, are you having the usual?” Scott smiled at the young girl, watching her eyes slide over his chest and arms, where his damp shirt was sticking to the skin.

 

“Not today thanks Bryony, I’ll have a double espresso with a little sugar.”

 

Bryony nodded and continued gawping at him, a little like a goldfish, as she filled the espresso machine with ground coffee. Scott stood waiting for his coffee, the metronome in his head ticking restlessly, counting down the hours till his flight to France.

 

“There you go Mr Baker,” Bryony handed him the small cup. “That will be £1.45, I’ve…”

 

Before she could finish, Scott interjected “Taken off 10%. Thanks Bryony, you tell me every day.”

 

The girl flushed even redder than before. “Sorry, sir.”

 

“It’s quite alright, you can call me Patrick.” Scott always went by his alias, Patrick Baker, to keep his true identity hidden. There were only a few people who knew this and he was determine to keep it that way. He smiled at Bryony and turned to head out the door, before she called him back.

 

“Wait, Mr Baker, this came for you in the post this morning.” The young girl ducked behind the counter and came up with a small brown parcel tied with string. Scott tentatively took the package, which was addressed to ‘Mr. P. Baker’, with a Parisian postmark.

 

“Thanks Bryony. I appreciate it.”

 

Scott took the table by the window and sipped his espresso, the hot coffee shooting through his veins and clearing his mind. Thankfully the café was busy and Bryony was pre-occupied serving hot drinks, so Scott took out the parcel from his shorts pocket and placed it on the table. He knew he shouldn’t really open it here, in case it was a bomb but he was so curious. He pulled the string and the brown paper around the square fell back to reveal a small velvet box. He flipped the lid in anticipation.

 

“Tessa,” he breathed silently as he reached into box found a small silver ring nestled in the soft velvet lining, he turned the ring in his fingers, the inscription shining in the morning sun.

 

“Balance, Dream, Strength” Scott whispered the words as he turned the ring in his hands. It was Tessa’s, he knew it. He had seen it when he looked at her in Japan last year, glinting on her slim middle finger. He had felt the cool metal against his skin when he took her hand in his own. Inside the box was a small note.

_Le Negresco_

_8pm_

_T x_

 

He gulped down the rest of his espresso and slipped the ring and the note in his shorts pocket. He didn’t even think about how she knew where to find him or what tonight would hold. He needed to go and pack for the mission of his life. For the first time in his career, Scott felt sick with nerves.

 

 

 

_17 th June 2018_

_Paris, France_

_Tessa_

 

It was pitch black when her eyes snapped open, her body was covered in sweat and tears rolled uncontrollably down her cheeks. Her hands grasped the thick white duvet as she adjusted to her surroundings. Her breathing was rapid and shallow as she rubbed her emerald eyes in the pitch blackness. She was in her own house in the centre of Paris, but her mind was still spiralling from her nightmare.

 

_She could see him, she could see his face, those wide hazel eyes and his charismatic smile. She could feel his strong hands running down her body, mapping every curve, every edge. Her lips tingled as she felt his mouth tenderly caressing hers. She could feel his fingers grazing every freckle, every dimple of her skin but then suddenly, he was lying beside her, his body torn and bleeding. His once bright, shining eyes were dull and lifeless._

Tessa sobbed harder as a cry tore from her throat. She couldn’t stop thinking about his rigid body surrounded in a pool of blood and she had the gun. Tessa shook her head and wiped back her damp hair from her forehead. She needed to get him out of her head. She needed to regain her composure before she came face to face with Scott later in Nice and she would have to be the one to pull the trigger first.  

 

Tessa climbed from her huge king sized bed, the clock on her nightstand blinking 3.25am. She felt the plush cream sheepskin surround her toes, the soft touch of the wool almost grounding and soothing her. She shrugged on her blush silk dressing gown and opened the shutters to let in the light from the dazzling city around her. Paris totally illuminated her house, the gleaming yellow aura of the Eiffel tower shone like the North Star.

 

Tessa had a hand in the interior design of her whole house. Other than her kitchen, she believed the master bedroom to be her finest work. Her bedroom was stunning and elegant in design, a statuesque four poster bed sat opposite double doors leading onto a small patio with views over Paris and to the Eiffel Tower. Her colour scheme was neutral with plush white cotton bedding and black trims. Her favourite place was her walk-in wardrobe that stretched the length of her room. She was trying to calm herself down but so many thoughts were rushing through her mind.

 

Her hand slid back the door to her wardrobe and her fingers grazed the beautiful clothes inside. Tessa felt the variety of fabrics brushing past her and tried to focus herself on other things. _Linen, satin, fur_.  What would she take to Nice? _Chiffon, wool, cotton_. What would he want to see her in? _Chenille, denim, cashmere._ What would send him wild? _Leather, silk, lace_. The variations in the fabrics felt soothing under her worn fingertips as images of Scott still swirled through her mind. Tessa felt sick and shaken, she had a job to do but so many questions. Why him? Why now? She couldn’t even muster a smile as she looked over at her neat rows of high heeled shoes, sitting perfectly in order waiting to sit inside her suitcase.

 

She walked to her ensuite bathroom, the white marble glinted in the reflection of the city’s glow. Tessa hung up her robe and ran the shower, the warm droplets spilled freely from the huge shower head like heavy monsoon rain in a drought. The dense drops echoed off the smooth tiles and reverberated around the room. She walked through the glass and felt the stream of heat hitting her tired body, causing goosebumps to flash over her pale skin. She let the swirling steam relieve the darkness in her mind, she felt the heat prickle her body; the burning sensation trickled right into her core. She wanted him – no she needed him. Tessa longed to see him again, she longed to run her hands through his hair and feel the tickle of his lips against her collarbone.

 

Tessa felt for her body wash, the thick creamy lather slipping over her taut abdomen, her hands caressed the very curves and edges of her body, the way that she wanted him to. She slid her hands down her smooth thighs and over the round edges of her arse, her fingers skirting inwards towards where she needed the relief. She teased herself mercilessly, her fingertips edging round and round her core, never quite putting enough pressure in any one spot. Her body was wracked with desire, she could feel herself shaking under the hot water. _Scott._ She had one person on her mind and one person only. She wanted to see him, to hear him, to touch and taste him. She wanted to be overtaken by his presence; to feel his body over hers, to feel the heat from his breath in her ear as he whispered filthy words to her. She wanted his strong hand to cover hers as their fingers settled low between her legs, creating that devastatingly overpowering sensation that she was chasing.

 

Her fingers slid to her centre, pushing deep to set a slow and torturous rhythm, all while the scorching water burnt her soft freckled skin. Her fragile form wobbled as her knees threatened to give way to the sensations tracking around her entire form. Her body gave in to the touch of her own fingers, for she knew herself better than anyone; _well anyone except the one person she wanted the most_. The light circles over her clit were too much for her to take, she needed more. Her body pressed up against the glass as she sunk to her knees on the shower floor, the beating of the water a steady rhythm against her back as she pushed herself closer and closer to the edge, in the seemingly endless pursuit of sweet release. She stroked harder and faster, her body a vessel for the heightened sensations. Her breathing was erratic, the glass clouded thickly with her breath and the steam when finally, she could feel the tingling sensation chasing up her legs and through her groin, permeating right to her very core; finally, she was on the cusp of victory as she cried out his name into the swirling water.

 

An hour later after drying and untangling her dark hair, Tessa sunk back into her soft warm duvet, her fingers clutching the cool sheets as she laid down into her feather pillow. _12 hours_ , 12 hours and she would have to face him again. 12 hours and she would have to kill him before he killed her. She closed her eyes and prayed for sleep to overtake her. Her slim arms wrapped tightly around her body as she willed her brain to stop ticking. The metronome inside her mind ticking over and over, she tossed and turned, her hair fluffing around her face. Her brain couldn’t help but take her back to 2011, as she thought back the first time he had held her in his arms and saved her life.

 

 

 

_Rio De Janeiro_

_December 31 st 2011 _

_Tessa_

The lights and music of the carnival were overwhelming, Tessa was in the front of a large carnival float, her pink sequin dress caught the light with every twist and turn of her hips. Her body undulated and turned with the changing beat of the raucous samba music. The amount of people dancing in the street took her breath away; for as far as the eye could see there were bodies snaking around the streets like hordes of ants crawling all over each other.  How was she supposed to find her target in the melee? Tessa spun around looking for the man she was supposed to assassinate.

 

She was trying to be stoical and put her professional head on but the memories of him came flooding back in high definition the more she looked around to try and find him. She shook her head to clear it and pinched the bridge of her nose to steady her breathing. She remembered what her therapist had said. He wasn’t allowed to take charge of her anymore.

 

Her jungle themed carnival float made its way down the streets of Rio to the sounds of people chanting, the clash of the drums and the beat of the tambourines. Tessa loved the vibrant costumes, happy faces and excited dancers in Rio. It was her first time in Brazil and she was loving every minute of it, except the heavy pit in her stomach anytime she thought about her target. When she had seen his face in the control room, she had to try so hard not to waver or show emotion as Patrice revealed David’s face. It was her job and she was going to be the one to kill him.

 

Maybe it was a little payback, maybe it was karma for the way he treated her but she couldn’t help but feel like she wasn’t ready for this. Despite all her training and all her therapy, she was unsure if she could pull the trigger on the man who had once been her champion. She knew she needed to dispatch him and soon. He was running an underground trafficking ring for Marina and the Canton syndicate. She can’t say she was surprised, for she was originally intended to be sold to the highest bidder. She pushed back the dark memories and held her head high, taking in the high-octane environment surrounding her.

 

Tessa felt at home in Brazil, as she swayed her hips to the beat of the drums; the warm scent of cinnamon, oil and fried meat wafted from the street vendors as she danced alongside the carnival float, trying to blend in as part of the crowd in the New Year’s Eve parade. She needed to be as inconspicuous as possible, her tiny pink dress was the same as the six other dancers that were next to her. Her long, dark hair was swept up into a sleek, dark ponytail and her eye make up was thick and heavy, framing her deep green eyes. Tessa carried on dancing and getting lost in the music, her body taking over as the rhumba beat echoed in her ears.

 

Tessa had loved dancing for as long as she could remember. As a child she had been a performer and loved to play up to the crowd, regularly putting on shows for her family. Tessa had left home early at the tender age of 15 years old to join the Imperial Ballet in Moscow. Her mother and father had moved away from Canada when she was a tiny baby, because her father’s military career meant that her and her siblings moved around the world, with Russia being home to them in her early teens. As a promising ballerina, Tessa was inducted into the Imperial Ballet company in St. Petersburg in her early teens. She trained, worked, sacrificed and danced until her feet bled and her body ached. By 17 she was set to be the Prima Ballerina in Swan Lake. She was over the moon at her progress and the chance to perform at her pinnacle, only for her dreams to be quickly thwarted. One day during a particularly long run through, Tessa’s legs collapsed from underneath her, her shins were burning in agony as she tried to stand. She cried out in pain, her body failing her after 17 years.

 

Compartment syndrome is what the doctor had said in his thick Russian accent but she had heard him loud and clear. She would never have the chance to be Odette,she would never be able to live out her dream of dancing on the world’s stage. At first she was so numb, she felt nothing, she couldn’t even cry. Her parents tried everything to support her, they helped her during the surgery and her rehabilitation. She had to watch her biggest rival take her place on centre stage, the white feathers of her costume arrow plumes into Tessa’s heart.

 

Tessa was torn apart, piece by piece, she was so lost, almost treading water just waiting to drown. She had never felt so helpless, then the tears came. They flooded her eyes and down her cheeks until her body was wracked and torn apart, until she could cry no more. Then she felt a deep anger and resentment, she felt angry with her own body for betraying her, anger towards her artistic director for pushing her too hard and anger towards her parents for letting her into this harsh world of dancing and encouraging her to exceed her limit.

 

She was a mere shell of herself when she first met him. He came into her world right at the point when she was the most vulnerable. David was charming, he was smart, he was older. He made her feel wanted and loved but most of all he made her feel like she was worth something. He had singled her out for her eye for detail in the choreography and her relentless pursuit of excellence. He had honed her skills and taught her to use her grace and beauty to enhance her performance. He had also shattered her world and tonight was payback time as he was first on her Canton hit list.

 

The music was getting wilder and Tessa was spinning around and around, letting the rhythm take over her feet. She watched the sequins of her dress catch in the light as she lifted her arms over her head. The next thing she knew, she felt a strong hand wrap around her wrist and tug her around. Her breath left her body and her eyes widened as she saw him standing behind her.

 

“Scott,” she gasped as she saw him standing in front of her. He was even more handsome than the last time she had seen him in Moscow. His skin tanned, his jaw was squarer, but the same warmth radiated from his hazel eyes and the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled at her, but she could also see the hurt and anger through his smile.

 

“Tessa Virtue, so we meet again.”

 

She almost grimaced as he said her name, he spoke with both desire and distaste at the same time. She could feel herself getting nervous as his eyes studied her body, taking in her beautiful figure in her wonderfully vibrant carnival outfit.

 

“So we do Agent Moir.” She pulled her wrist away from his firm grip but he slid an arm around her waist and started moving with her, ‘Club de Belugas – Hip Hip Chin Chin’ blared from the overhead speaker on her float, as their bodies swayed to the beat.

 

_The subject of tonight’s lecture is rhythm (the beat)_

_The driving force that holds our lives together_

_Without rhythm, your heart wouldn’t beat?_

 

 

He was dressed for carnival, in a low cut zebra print sequin shirt. A thoroughly over the top and glittery outfit that Tessa had to snigger at.

 

“What are you laughing at Agent Virtue?” He scolded her. He had definitely not forgotten that she had lead him on and left him for dead in a Moscow bathroom, almost two years ago. Tessa brushed past his tone and carried on dancing.

 

“Your outfit, it’s truly ridiculous.” He spun her around, the lights and music raged all around them, but all she could focus on was how his eyes sparkled in the lights, changing from bronze to golden, his dark pupils blown wide as his gaze never left hers. Tessa almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing here in Rio, as he held her tight, their bodies moving in unison to the samba music. His hands skimmed her hips and their feet settled a fast and synchronised pattern. Without warning, Scott slid his hands under her arms and lifted her up, spinning her around to face him. 

 

_Without direction_

_Without moves_

_Without shakes_

_And so tonight we say hip hip chin chin the rhythm’s action_

 

 

They were so close right now, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she looked up at him. Their height difference wasn’t huge but she could lean into him and graze his collarbone with her lips as they twirled. His lips curled into a coy smirk as if he could sense how much she was affected by him, even though he was trying to be tough with her.

 

“So Agent Virtue, how are you going to make it up to me for Moscow?” Tessa gulped hard as they turned with the beat, his words echoed in her mind. Was he threatening her or challenging her? She couldn’t think straight right now. She had a job to do in Rio and she knew he was on the opposing side.

 

“You know I’m here to do a job and so are you, so we can cut the bullshit.” She was stern with him, maybe more stern than she had anticipated as but he didn’t flinch, he just bit back harder, his teeth gritted as he spoke.

 

“Did you even stop to think that I might have died in Moscow though?” She was almost stunned by his interrogation style questioning. “You’re not a nice person Agent Virtue.” He was testing her resolve, he was pushing and pushing until she could feel herself snap like an elastic band.

 

“You don’t even know me,” she bit again, her voice tense and harsh, trying not to wobble and waiver at his anger, “and no I haven’t thought about you at all since last year.” She knew this was a lie, she had thought about Agent Moir, plenty of times. Usually in the gym when she was working out, on her commute to the office she would wonder what his commute was like or in her bedroom alone at night, she would wonder if he thought of her while pushing himself to a climax. In short, Scott Moir had never been off her mind since Moscow. He pulled her in close, the scent of his aftershave hitting her nostrils, his breath warm and sweet, tinged with rum and smoke.

 

“I know you think about me in the shower Tessa.” His warm breath ghosted the shell of her ear as he whispered to her. He hadn’t called her Agent Virtue this time, he had used her full name.

 

“Stop it, you don’t know anything.” She tried to keep her resolve, she had a job to do tonight in Rio and dancing with Agent Moir was not what she had planned. He kept reeling her in though, his footwork magnificent, his movements so perfectly in time with her own. She could see the drops of sweat beading on his bare chest, could feel the heat of his hard body pressed against her own as they threw themselves together to the music, the tempo slowing to a smooth beat as the lyrics permeated the thick atmosphere between them.

_Rusted Brandy in a Diamond glass,_

_Everything is made from dreams,_

_Time is made from honey slow and sweet,_

_Only the fools know what it means._

 

Scott spun her around slowly, her body twisted in time with the music almost folding against him. He slid his hand low around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Tessa’s breath caught as she rubbed herself up and down his body, she could feel him hot and hard against her as she shimmied her hips against his. She felt him almost snarl in her ear as his fingers gripped her hips almost desperately. It was although he was trying to make her stop but couldn’t.

 

“Tessa…careful now.” His warning was curt and clipped, his hot breath deliciously smooth and teasing in her ear. They were in the middle of a huge crowd, dancing like two horny teenagers and she just couldn’t stop herself. Her body took over her mind as Diana Krall swooned over the speakers. She knew this was so wrong, he was her rival and he was after the same key piece of information that she was, but he was a magnet pulling her in. His aftershave was thick and sweet as she breathed his aroma in deeply. He was still thoroughly pissed at her but she could see his resolve crumbling and they couldn’t possibly be closer right now as they danced in the crowd.

 

 

_Temptation, temptation, temptation…….I can’t resist_

 

Tessa took her chance to show him how sorry she was about Moscow. She became more bold and leant upwards and their shared breath mingled.

 

“Scott,” she breathed out his name like a prayer, her long eyelashes fluttering.

 

“Agent Virtue, you’re testing my patience.” She pressed herself harder against him and slipped her arms around the back of his neck, her fingers tugging on the strands of hair there. Tessa was being bold, but Scott was bolder as he closed the gap and angrily pressed his lips to hers. She was mesmerised by the heat and intensity of his kiss. The way his lips moved against hers, the way his hand curled around her neck and tugged her closer. Scott’s teeth nipped her lip and his tongue slid deep into her mouth as she eagerly parted for him. Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt, drew his body closer. Their skin was damp with perspiration in the thick humid air as their bodies were crushed against one another. Tessa inhaled deeply, taking in his presence as he held her tightly. She could feel her body aching all over, her legs tingling and her mid whirling. She felt like her knees might give way as he ran his hands up and down her back, his fingers gently scratching the skin. She had never ever been kissed by anyone, the way Scott Moir kissed her.

 

 

_Well I know that she is made of smoke_

_But I’ve lost my way_

_He knows that I am broke_

_But I must play_

_Temptation, oh temptation, temptation,….I can’t resist_

The tantalising tension between them buzzed as neither could keep their eyes off each other. Hers glistened like gems in the moonlight but his appeared golden under the bright carnival lights. Scott lifted his finger and grazed her lip with his thumb.

 

“I still hate you for Moscow, Agent Virtue, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” He leant to whisper in her ear. She was being sucked under his spell. What if he wanted to kill her? What if he had a gun? Before she could even think and pull out her own weapon on him, a loud gunshot split the air and hurtled past them. The bullet screamed right past Tessa, missing her by mere millimetres. She immediately pushed away from him thinking he was her attacker and scrambled for her Baretta, which was strapped to her thigh under her samba dress. Tessa turned to shoot Agent Moir but he was nowhere to be seen. She ignored the screaming carnival goers and sped away into the night, through the dense crowds.

 

The bright strobe lights were disorientating her as she ran through the backstreets of Rio, she could hear dogs barking all over, fireworks crashed overhead as _Mujer Latina_ rung in her ears. She was almost shot, she could still feel the breeze of the bullet as it zipped past her cheek, narrowly missing her face by mere millimetres. It was a warning shot, her marksman surely wouldn’t have missed that one as he was standing right in front of her. Why did Agent Moir not kill her when he had the chance? At that minute, she had been so close to him, their bodies undulating to the intense beat, she had given into temptation, she had closed the gap but he had kissed her first. Her shins burnt horrendously, Lucifer’s flames licking at her legs, as she ran across cobbles in thin stiletto heels, her gun clutched in her clammy palm. Tessa looked back as she sprinted, she had no idea where to head. Her hotel would be the obvious choice but she knew that Scott was an accomplished assassin and would find her. On a whim, she took a right and then a sharp left and followed her nose to the port. The pungent stench of rotten fish burnt her nostrils as she ran past a pack of ragged Brazilian street dogs.

 

When she finally reached the dock, Tessa let her body collapse, her breathing was shallow and erratic as she struggled to get her breath back. She leant up against a pile of wooden crates, the fire raging in her muscles as she rubbed her calves to circulate the blood flow.

 

_** Trigger warning **_

“Tessa, Tessa, Tessa, my dear sweet girl….do your legs still trouble you?” She spun around so rapidly to face her attacker. His voice was recognisable anywhere but it wasn’t who she thought it would be. It wasn’t Scott, but her mentor David, from Moscow. He was the man she was supposed to assassinate tonight. He was the very same one who had taken her recovery into his own hands and taken advantage of her vulnerabilities.

 

Tessa scrambled away from his voice and backed into the brick wall behind her. She could feel her heart beating ten to the dozen as his footsteps drew nearer, the gentle click growing louder as she closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle. “Come out, come out Tessa, I know you’re here.” His voice was rich and smooth like dark coffee. She held her breath and could spot her Baretta, lying right near the crate about a foot over from where she was crouched. She couldn’t quite reach it from her hiding place as the bright light from the dock would expose her. All around the fireworks spun through the air lighting up Christ the Redeemer and the city before her.

 

“Tessa get the fuck out of here now!” David was beginning to get agitated and angry as he fired a warning shot into the crates to her left splintering the wood. Tessa jumped back in shock and screamed betraying her hiding place.

 

“Oh that’s where you are beautiful girl.”

 

She looked over and saw him smirk as he walked towards her, his face splitting into a devious grin as he pointed his gun right in her face. She closed her eyes tightly, frozen to the spot as he approached. She couldn’t look him in the eyes, her head clouded with awful memories of him.

 

“Stay away from me!” she screamed at him, her body shaking with adrenaline.

 

“You can’t hide from me Tessa.” He attempted to soothe her with his words, his hand stroked over her cheekbone as he gently pushed the butt of his pistol to her temple. Tessa didn’t even realise she was crying, the silent tears soaked her cheeks and caused black mascara to run all down her face.

 

“There, there my girl, don’t cry.” She trembled and shrugged away from his touch as though his hand burnt. “Don’t be rude Tessa.”

 

He lifted his hand and smacked her face making her scream out into the darkness. Her scream was heavily muffled by the New Year’s Eve party blaring around her. In her mind, she couldn’t stop the images rolling; _his filthy hands all over her, his heavy body covering hers, her silent screams. The words she had whispered to her pillow for him to stop, for someone to help her._

 

She could smell him, he’s was so close to her face. His breath reeked of whisky and cigars, nothing like the sweet scent of Agent Moir. She felt like her legs might give way any second as he pressed the gun further to her head, the cool metal sensation burning her skull. Tessa closed her eyes and waited for David to pull the trigger.

 

She heard the gunshot, so loud and clear. The bang that was supposed to take her life, but she felt nothing. Not the metal blasting into her brain or the hot rush of blood down her face. She didn’t feel the cold stone as her lifeless body tumbled to the ground. It took her a moment to register as she felt David’s body fall away from hers.

 

She watched in shock as he fell backwards, his eyes vacant and wide. She felt his blood, hot and wet, splash against her bare skin. The crack of a pistol and the hammer of the bullet against her arm made her recoil. She smashed into the brick wall with such force that her whole body slumped. She was shaking and the searing pain in her arm made her cry out. Tessa could feel the warm ooze of blood trickle down her forehead and the pain in her right arm was so intense that she thought she had died.

 

“Tess, Tess! Oh my god, Tess.” He was here, he had saved her. Agent Moir had shot David. She couldn’t see him really, he was a fuzzy outline but she could feel his warm hands gripping her body as he lifted her up bridal style. She could just about make out his floppy brown hair and those wide hazel eyes staring down at her before she succumbed to the pain and her vision blurred and finally blackened.

 

Her eyes blinked open slowly and her ears were ringing when she finally came round. She was in a stark white hospital ward in Rio. Her white bedding scratchy and starchy and her pink carnival dress replaced with a blue hospital gown. She was attached to several blinking monitors with thick black wires and her arm was hidden by a huge gauzy dressing. Tentatively her fingers on her left hand brushed across her temple, where her head was throbbing. She felt the thick crepe bandage underneath her fingertips that was wound tightly around her head.

 

Her body felt weak and crumpled on the single hospital bed. She looked over to the right to see if there were any nurses in the station as she was so thirsty, her mouth parched and sore, and then she saw him. There slumped next to her bed in a great big wing-backed chair was Agent Moir. His zebra print shirt, was covered in her dark, crusted blood and his black dancing shoes scuffed and bloodied. He had carried her to the hospital. He had saved her. She longed to reach out and touch his hand, just to feel the smooth skin beneath her fingers again.

 

“Scott.” She tried to speak but it was just a croaky whisper. Her mind was all out of focus. Tessa’s eyelids fluttered softly before she succumbed to a deep sleep again.

 

When she awoke on New Year’s Day, she looked around the bright ward, dazzled by the early morning sunlight. Her body was buzzing with anticipation of seeing Agent Moir and thanking him for saving her. She wondered why he had. Why had he followed her and killed David? It wasn’t his mission and he was still so mad at her for leaving him in Moscow the year before. He had saved her and bought her to hospital to recover.

 

Tessa sighed heavily and turned to the bedside table to reach out for the water jug with her shaking arm. As she leant over she felt something cool and metallic in bed with her. She fished around in the sheets a little and found a small Toronto Maple Leafs pin badge. She rotated the small badge in her fingers, illuminating the design to the light and watching the blue and white badge glimmer under the hospital strobe lighting. The tiny jersey shaped badge was so tacky in some ways and yet so perfectly unique, for the name on the hockey jersey was Moir and he had given it to her. Tessa smiled coyly to herself before calling Patrice to try and get herself extradited from Brazil.

 

“Until next time Moir,” she whispered as she slipped the pin badge into the pocket of her gown.

 


	3. Keep your friends close, keep rival agents closer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Scott prepare for the most anticipated mission of their lives while they reminisce about the times they spent together in Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took me a month to write but please have almost 2 chapters length in one. 
> 
> Thank you to N for beta reading this for me. I am so grateful for your comma slashing and second perspective. 
> 
> Please be warned that there is reference to sex trafficking and the last paragraph contains some descriptive smut. (I’ll pop in asterisks if this isn’t your thing) 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought! ❤️

 

_17 th June _

_Le Negresco Hotel, Nice, France._

_Tessa_

_5.15 pm_

 

Tessa was nervous. She had been pacing her suite for 10 minutes now. She was in her usual Sea View Suite at the Le Negresco Hotel, right on the boulevard in Nice. It was the very hotel that her parents used to spend their anniversary in every year. Nice was like a drug to her; she knew this place conjured up all sorts of memories, but she couldn’t stop coming back. Just looking around the suite hurt her eyes; the lavish wallpaper in the bedroom was too bright, the baroque patterns were etched deep into her mind like swirls of a maze she couldn’t escape. The plush navy velvet of the chaise longue was too soft, the texture had always set her teeth on edge when her fingers grazed the surface. The ornate bed was much too vast for one person as she fell back against the plump cushions, her hair splayed out against the thick comforter like Medusa’s snakes weaving across the sumptuous fabric.

 

She couldn’t stop the rapid beating of her heart as she closed her eyes. Her slim fingers weaved together between her clammy palms. Usually, she would try and keep calm by counting her heartbeat, taking some deep breaths or twisting her ring around her middle finger but the cool silver metal of the band was absent. The ring had been a gift to her from her late grandmother, around the time of her first surgery. The ring was given to symbolise Tessa’s strength, bravery and success when it seemed like the world around her was crumbling. The ring meant everything to her and she had taken such a gamble sending it to Scott, but if there was the slightest chance that he might read her signals and they could prevent this mission escalating to their death, then she saw no other way around it than to send the ring.

 

Even though Tessa had sent her ring to London for him, she didn’t know if he had received it. Her and Scott didn’t speak regularly, except for when they met up annually on missions. She knew she shouldn’t have thought about him, but in the early days, she often found herself wishing for his presence on her missions. She took a moment to think back to her early missions and the way she felt about him then. In those first few moments that she stepped off her plane in a foreign land and checked into her bleak, anonymous hotel room, she had always found herself hoping to catch a glimpse of him. She longed to see him taking his cases out of a taxi or bent at the reception desk, signing for his room. She always spotted his hazel eyes and floppy brown hair, whatever country she was in.

 

Each time she was sent far across the globe by Interpol, she hoped to run into the elusive British agent that took her breath away. She used to silently hope that she would have him by her side again and that they would come together to destroy the syndicate. Right now, she couldn’t help but fear for her safety, but really what she feared for was her heart. Each time they met, he stole tiny pieces of her soul. Pieces so small that she didn’t even realise they were missing, until yesterday, when she saw his face on her hit list.

 

As she swallowed back her thoughts of Scott, her mind went back to her absent ring, and the memories of her childhood came flooding back like an old cinema reel. Tessa missed her grandmother fiercely. Snippets of her life before Russia bubbled up all sorts of emotions.  Her grandmother was one of her best friends and she hadn’t seen her since she was a child. Tessa had memories of her grandmother taking her to ballet or to the local ice rink for figure skating lessons. The photo in Tessa’s soft, black leather wallet was a black and white print of the two of them.  The edges of the old photo were ragged and crinkled but there on the image was Tessa, head to toe in warm winter gear, with her hat pulled so far down her forehead and her grandmother’s loving arms wrapped around her.

 

In the background, she can just make out the local boys throwing snowballs. There were a few back in Ontario that were all young hooligans. She vaguely remembers a local family that had three boys. The elder two boys had pelted her and Jordan with snowballs in their backyard; Tessa and the younger boy must have been just toddlers at the time. The memories are so distant and hazy that she wouldn’t have been able to remember the boys’ faces even if she ran into them now. The memories made her smile, the corner of her lips curved upwards and the skin around her eyes crinkled, making her forget where she was and what she was about to do. She absentmindedly wondered what the boys would be doing now. Surely they would be similar ages to her and Jordan?

 

She was pulled back to the present by her phone ringing loudly on the table across the room. It was Patrice.

 

“Agent 117, are you in place?” His voice was gruff and raspy down the phone, like he was speaking underwater. The two of them hadn’t spoken since Tessa received her mission. She was frustrated with Patrice, because he knew about her and Scott and the way their paths had crossed over the years. He knew how difficult this was for both of them, but hadn’t said anything to her.

 

“Affirmative. Agent in position.” Her tone was clipped and caustic.

 

Patrice knew a little about the history between Agent Virtue and Agent Moir, as he was regularly in touch with Scott’s boss Marie-France Dubreuil. Tessa knew little of their relationship except the snippets that she had heard from Scott or seen during agency dinners. She suspected that their romance was somewhat of a thrilling tryst between two opposing agencies. The thought made her laugh. The irony of their situation just too much to handle. Patrice was silent on the end of the phone, she could hear his shallow breaths and the crackle of the static. What would he say to her? Don’t get killed? Don’t fuck your enemy? A little too late for that, she mused.

 

“Tessa.”

 

His voice was soft and gentle, almost a whisper. He never called her by her first name, especially not during a mission. He must be really concerned about her. She bit her lip and toyed with the skin at the side of her thumb. Her blood red nails bit the tender pink flesh of her hand, drawing tiny red dots to the surface of her pale skin. Just like ink on paper, the droplets pushed up through the nicks on her palm and bled across the surface and into the lines of her hand. She needed to feel something. She wanted to feel anything other than the heavy weight of emotion in her chest that was waiting to bubble up her throat. The silence between her and Patrice seemed to stretch for hours, making Tessa even more anxious.

 

“I know it’s hard ma chérie, but this is your job and I need you to do it properly.”

 

His tone started soft and caring, his emotion genuinely conveyed by his words, until the latter part of his sentence. He was her boss and he still needed her to kill Agent Moir. She still needed to pull the trigger and wipe out the only man she had ever cared for.

 

She swallowed hard, her saliva taking the weight of lead, as beads of sweat formed on her brow. “I won’t let you down, Sir.”

 

Her hands were shaking as she clicked off the call, not even letting Patrice respond to her last statement. The call had set her nerves on edge again and she carried on pacing. The click of her heels across the wooden floor was setting a rhythm for her to follow.

She could see the sea from her suite, the double doors opened out onto a wide balcony that faced the beach as the gentle swell of the waves lapped at the shore. Tessa stepped out onto the balcony and inhaled deeply. The rich tang of salt hit the back of her throat as she gulped the warm air. The rush of breeze through the palm lined avenue caused the hairs on her arms to stand on end. The sky was a pale blue, soon to turn crimson and finally disappear into blackness. Her nerves were so heightened, she could feel the anxiety bleeding from her like a river flowing into the ocean. The pain in her palm throbbed, the tiny droplets of blood hitting the lavish tiles below. Not even that pain could distract her from her heightened senses.

 

She had a choice to make. She could play fair and see how things panned out or she could play dirty and try and get a one up on him before he even got here. She knew just how to get to him and just the thing to make his head whirl. She needed him off his guard if she was going to succeed in this mission tonight. She spun her phone around in her hands before sliding the silk robe up her pale thighs, exposing the lace of her black stockings, her skin prickled with goosebumps from the light breeze.

 

Her left hand steadied her phone, as her right hand splayed gently across her cool skin to open her thighs a little more crudely than usual, but she needed maximum impact. She knew this would do the trick, she knew this would send him wild. She knew he had seen this lingerie set before; the lace that she only buys in Paris from this one tiny boutique down the back streets of Montmartre. She knew he would do anything for her, including giving her a moment to get ahead of the game. He would come willingly and she would be waiting for him.

 

 

_7.35 pm_

 

Tessa poured herself a big glass of red wine. A few hours after she had sent the photograph, she needed to do something to take her mind off Scott. Even if she had to kill him, she wanted to spend the night with him first. She wanted to make sure that she was unforgettable. Her dress for the Casino night was a startling red. The rich red colour evoked feelings of lust, sensuality and hedonism. The neckline was high, emphasising the swell of her breasts and pressing on her throat ever so slightly, which sent a raw and emphatic buzz through her body like nothing else. Her fingertips slid over the dress, taking it from the garment bag. The puckered embroidery of the roses and jewels was a juxtaposition on the fabric; roses were silky smooth but the jewels coarse under her fingers. She is mindful not to let any blood stain her beautiful dress. The confidence she felt in this outfit was akin to nothing else. She felt so powerful and strong. Maybe she was teetering on the edge of madness? Tessa laughed before she hung the dress on her wardrobe, wanting to make sure that it will be the first thing he sees when he entered her hotel suite.

 

She twisted in front of the mirror, black silk dressing gown slung low on her shoulders, the contrast between her pale skin and the ebony fabric striking. Tessa decided that the best way to take her mind off her target was to get ready for the ball tonight. She walked into the large en-suite bathroom; the fine white Italian marble offset streaks of caramel through the tiles. A huge egg shaped bath dominated the lavish space. Tessa set to work and opened the gleaming gold taps to let the hot water flow into the marble bath. As the water flowed thick and fast she looked at her reflection in the mirror once again. The glowing golden light from the overhead lamp made her porcelain skin shine and her bright green eyes glisten.

 

She could hear nothing else but the rush of water hitting marble. The swirls of steam rose in a cacophony with the beautiful bathroom, steaming up the mirrors and leaving fine droplets of dew on the surfaces. She poured her Jo Malone ‘ _Red roses’_ bath oil into the steamy water and watched the viscous liquid separate; the globules of oil fascinated her as they sat atop the bath water.

 

With the water still running, Tessa slid the fine silk tie from the waistband of her robe. The smooth black material slipped through her fingers. The more she moved the silk over her skin, the more she remembered him. She could feel the bindings tighten around her wrist, the sweet crest of sensations rumbled low in her belly. She could feel his deft hands tying the silk to the bed. She closed her eyes, still running the silk of her gown across her skin, her body betrayed her as the feelings of desire coiled low in her groin. Her gown fell to the floor, the black silk pooled in a heap against the white marble.

 

Tessa stepped up and dipped her toe into the searing water. The contrast of temperatures left her gasping as goosebumps rose across her naked shoulders and arms. She sat down in the water, the gentle swell of the running taps bubbling over the surface. She could still feel the silk ties around her wrists, still hear the filthy words he whispered to her as his mouth caressed her body. She shut her eyes tightly, willing the lust to dissipate as the warm water flooded her body. The excitement and nerves were pulsing through her like never before. She reached down to the discarded robe and pulled her gun onto the side of the bath. She was ready for him. She clicked the ammunition into place and latched the safety. Her eyes closed momentarily, trying to relax in the soothing water when she heard the click of her suite door. Her fingers curled around the gun. It was time. 

 

 

_17 th June 2018_

_London City Airport, London UK_

_Scott_

_5.20pm_

 

His right leg bounced up and down on the ball of his heel. It was a nervous habit and one that he had since he was younger. Anytime he was anxious, he would tap his heel to the floor and count the beats. To those around him it was an incessant drumming of his shoe on the ground, which annoyed many. Marie-France had scolded him for it many times before, but this time she was in the back of the Range Rover, more silent than Scott had ever seen. He looked over at her and noticed that she looked worried. Her skin tone was paler than usual and her hair a little more out of place than its usually sleek shiny bob. He knew she had been having some problems getting her little girl to go to school recently, but he felt like something else was on her mind. Scott loved Marie’s little girl, Billie-Rose, as much as his own nieces and nephews. Billie was 7 going on 17, she was such a diva and Scott had always had a huge presence in her life. He was her godfather and he had been there for both Marie and Billie since the day she was born. Scott was never made aware of who her father was, but he had his suspicions. Especially as the little girl grew older, she began to resemble a certain Interpol Agent more and more.

 

Scott wondered why Marie-France was so nervous. He watched her chewing her beautifully manicured thumb nail, which was a sign of her stress. Scott was concerned, as Marie-France was usually the calmest and most collected person he had ever met. He was about to ask her what was troubling her, when the MI5 jet rolled across the tarmac. Scott and Marie-France pulled up at the private hanger, ready for Scott to fly over to Nice for his latest mission. Operation Kill Tessa Virtue. It still hadn’t sunk in for him, the magnitude of what he was about to do. The weight of her silver ring felt enormous in his pocket; the tiny metal circle was burning a hole in his side. What would Marie-France do if she knew he had it? What did it mean to Tessa? Was it a warning or a truce?

 

He thumbed the cool metal in his pocket, turning the ring slowly between his thumb and forefinger, touching the ridges of the words against the pad of his thumb. She wanted to see him before the dinner. Would she give him a chance to talk about the mission? Scott stared out the window watching the bright summer sunshine reflect off a rogue puddle on the tarmac. Marie-France’s warm palm pressed gently against his thigh, he turned and saw her eyes glassy with tears.

 

“Be careful Scott, don’t let yourself get hurt.”

 

He could feel her words cut through him like a knife through butter. _Hurt, he was already beyond hurting at this point._ He was angry, angry with her and with MI5 making him take this mission. Marie-France knew all about Tessa and their missions over the last 8 years and she still wanted him to assassinate the love of his life. He glared at her for a moment, his hands fisting in his lap as he gripped his leather duffel bag.

 

“What would you know about love and hurt? You don’t have to kill her.” His words were cool and cutting, he was so angry with her right now. She looked at him shell shocked, her brown eyes wide and doe like.

 

“I know more than you think, Moir. Don’t you dare speak to me like that.”

 

Before she could say anymore, he slammed the door of the Range Rover in her face, the bite of metal reverberating heavily through the air.  Scott didn’t look back at the car, he didn’t turn and apologise. He just carried on to the steps of the plane. He was so passionate that sometimes his anger got the better of him. He had tried to control it over the years and he regretted snapping at Marie-France like that. She was the closest person to family that Scott had, but the thought of having to kill Tessa was just too much for him.

 

“Afternoon, Sir,” Scott was greeted by Javier, his personal pilot and one of his closest friends at MI5.

 

“Javi,” Scott nodded courteously, as he climbed aboard the plush aircraft and stowed his duffel bag and suit in the compartment above. By the time he had taken his seat, there was a cut glass tumbler of whisky sat on the mahogany table in front of him. He crooked a smile at Javier. The man knew just what he needed to calm his nerves.

 

“Thank you my friend, I appreciate it,” Scott’s smile was warm and genuine. His hazel eyes lit up and his hand clasped his friend’s before they got the plane ready to take off.

 

“Let’s get you up in the air then,” Javier promptly shouted at the remaining crew in rapid Spanish and took his position in the cockpit. Scott looked down through the window and saw the forest green range rover still sitting on the tarmac as the jet cruised past. He felt truly awful for snapping at Marie-France but she had no idea how he was feeling right now. He was such an emotional person, his worries, fears, passions and thrills bled from his eagerly. He truly wore his heart on his sleeve. He gulped down his whisky, the smokywarmth gliding down his throat.  Scott reclined his chair and closed his eyes to rest. Only a moment later, his smartphone vibrated against the glass tumbler, making such a racket that Scott jolted up right. He slid the lock screen and opened the phone. The number was unknown but as soon as he opened the message he knew exactly who it was from.

 

There before him was a photo that brought all the memories searing back through his neurones. He couldn’t see her face, but the tops of her pale thighs were exposed, flashing the demure lace of her stockings and a pale sliver of skin. Her underwear was black lace, the pattern delicate and filigreed; the type she only buys in France. Her fingers were brashly splayed across her thigh, the tips of her fingers brushing mercilessly across her body just to draw in all his attention. Between her spread fingers, she has draped the thin silk tie from her dressing gown, an article of clothing that left a lump in his throat and a tightness in his trousers. One more scan of the picture and he noticed that there on her middle finger is just one ring where there should have been two. His fingers glided over the screen as if to touch her.

 

“Tessa,” his voice was just a whisper, soon swallowed up by the roar of the jet engines. The next time he closed his eyes he was transported back to the first time they properly spent the night together.

 

 

10th May 2013

Lake Como, Italy

_12.39pm_

 

Scott

 

The tires of his Ferrari screeched around the tight bend as Scott squeezed the accelerator. The 1980s silver Bugatti in front showed no sign of slowing down as thick plumes of smoke billowed from the back of the car he was chasing. Scott’s palms were sweaty as they plunged the gear stick into second, switching up to third as he alternated the clutch and accelerator. The thin winding roads around the lake snaked up into the jagged mountains and all around him the blue water from the lake shone like a brilliant diamond; the sun glistened on the smooth water. The beams of light shone directly through the windscreen making Scott squint to see the car that he was tailing. The silver car he was chasing suddenly screeched and abruptly spun around a hairpin bend, the exhausted rubber tires squealed like stuck pig as the heat bit through the charred rubber. Scott had to catch his prey, he couldn’t fail Marie-France again and he was onto a winner this time after his last successful Canton mission in Rio De Janeiro last year.

 

Today Scott’s target was the illusive Igor Shpilband. Dr Shpilband was an admired Russian professor. He had been working tirelessly at the University of Moscow to develop an antidote to a cold war nerve agent to improve survivor’s quality of life. Although, rumour has it that Shpilband had turned his attention to creating illicit narcotic substances for the Canton syndicate to ship worldwide and sell through some of the world’s most vicious cartels. Rumour also has it that, in addition to developing class A drugs, Igor was also heading up the underground sex trafficking ring for Marina Zoueva, since David had been assassinated by Scott last year in Brazil.

 

Igor was responsible from bringing vulnerable young girls from around the world to be sold to the highest bidder at secret auctions all over Europe. When Scott thought of the way that David had spoken to Agent Virtue, back in Rio, he ground his jaw together in anger. Scott was furious just thinking back to what could have happened to her had he not been there to stop David. Scott could still see her emerald eyes wide with fear. He could see feel the way her whole body trembled as her attacker approached her. Scott had felt so powerful pulling the trigger and watching the bullet fly into David’s back, ending his reign of terror.

 

He had held her body so close to his own as she passed out. He watched as the shock emanated through helpless form her. Her whole being slumped as she laid gently in his arms. It had been nearly a year and a half since he had seen her but he could still see her in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her bright pink sequin costume, her thick dark hair tied tightly in a high ponytail and her dark eyelashes that framed those stunning green eyes. Scott had hoped she would be here with him in Lombardy. He had hoped, _as he always does_ , that when Marie-France pulled him into her office for a new Canton mission, he would see Tessa.

 

Scott steadied the Ferrari ~~,~~ as the beast leapt from lane to lane. His car was an animal, fiercely pursuing the one in front. It was a dog eat dog world, and Scott was determined to catch Igor. He ramped up the accelerator, earning a mighty roar from the Ferrari, which reverberated all around the Italian countryside. Scott was too busy focusing on the car in front of him that he missed the whistle of turbo as a sleek black Porsche 911 sped past him. The black car was electric as it wove around the braided roads. The Porsche was rapid, the top was down and the passenger’s thick dark hair was blowing around in the breeze. _Tessa_. She was here in Italy and Shpilband was her target too.

 

Scott edged his car harder, the Ferrari screamed at 135km per hour as he pressed the accelerator to try and catch up with the flash Porsche. The two cars were neck and neck. Scott ~~,~~ dared to look over at her. She looked stunning as usual, her bright green eyes were hidden behind a pair of huge black sunglasses and her long dark hair was flying wildly behind her in the breeze as the cars sped around the lake. He winked at her as he sped through a tunnel, over taking her car and trying to catch up with the Bugatti. Suddenly, the sound of gunshots ricocheted across the clear sky. The bullets peppered the hood of Igor’s shiny car. Tessa sped past Scott, her gun was held high, and her bullets landed perfectly on their mark. She made a good attempt to hit Igor, but narrowly missed as a shot ricocheted off the cliff walls. 

 

Scott watched her bullet finally hit its mark and puncture the back tire on Igor’s car. His silver Bugatti, screeched and slalomed across the tarmac. Tessa handled her car with ease, her leather gloves tightly gripped the white steering wheel as she fired another warning shot to Igor’s car. Scott tailed her car and watched as Igor’s car smashed into the side of the tunnel. The silver car caught fire as Tessa and Scott sped past the burning wreckage. He caught the glimmer in her sparkling green eyes as she slipped her sunglasses down her nose and winked back at him. He threw his head back and laughed too, the cool breeze whipping around them as they raced down the lake to Menaggio. Tessa raced past his car as she over took him and disappeared into the distance with a wave of her hand. The dark shape of her car was getting smaller, as she drove away from him and down to the water’s edge.  She was going to be the death of him for sure and he was going to welcome it with open arms.

 

It was late in the afternoon by the time Scott reached his hotel. The Grand Hotel Tremezzo sat right on the edge of the Lake, the heat of the sun reflected off the top of the cool, clear water. Scott’s car pulled through the hotel gates, the hot tires crunched over the gravel of the driveway as he parked at the front. Scott tossed the valet the keys to his Ferrari and walked into the vast lobby. The hotel lobby was cavernous, a rich mahogany parquet floor led up to two huge marbled columns that framed the reception desk. Elegant red velvet furniture littered all corners of the lobby, with beautiful red roses completing the stylish space as they spilled from fine crystal glasses. Scott checked into his room – he had to laugh at Marie-France, she had booked him a huge lake view suite. Scott followed the bellboy up to his suite, where the gigantic bedroom was lavishly furnished with baroque elements but the most spectacular feature was the gorgeous view over the peaceful lake. Scott immediately dropped his bags in the living room and jumped on the king-sized bed. He knew it as childish and he just couldn’t wait to flop down here but firstly he wanted to go for a swim in the over lake pool at the front of the hotel. He grabbed his towel and quickly changed into his swimwear and headed down to the pool. The Grand Hotel Tremezzo had three pools, a stunning covered infinity pool, a more intimate swimming pool nestled in the gardens and the piece de resistance was a pool over the lake. Scott wandered through the gardens and down to the lake. He wanted to jump right in and do some laps before dinner tonight. He was to infiltrate the auction that the syndicate had been rumoured to be holding tonight in a secret underground location in Como. Marie-France had been tipped off to the meeting by her intel and she was ready to send Scott in to finish the job and rescue the women that were being held captive.

 

As he approached the sun loungers to deposit his towel he spotted a black fluffy towel rolled out on the neighbouring sun lounger. Its occupant was in the pool as Scott peered over to find an empty martini glass, and a dishevelled paperback copy of Northanger Abby gathered by the lounger. Scott looked over to the pool, intrigued by his swimming companion, when his heart almost stopped. It was her, it was Tessa. She looked exquisite as she swam up to the side of the pool, her athletic body covered in a bright red swimsuit, which worked wonders to highlight all her assets. Her black hair was wet and slicked back, with her gorgeous green eyes hiding behind her sunglasses.

 

“Agent Moir. Fancy seeing you here.”

 

Scott watched in awe as she placed her sunglasses on the side of the pool and smirked up at him, her eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun. She could be so teasing when she wanted to.

 

“Well you knew where I was staying didn’t you?” Scott dropped his towel at the side of the pool and walked over to sit beside her, dangling his legs in the cool water. He couldn’t help but notice how her eyes surveyed his body before her teeth sunk slightly into her bottom lip. The thought of her gazing admiringly at his physique made him feel rather confident.

 

“Of course, I did. I’m Tessa Virtue,” Tessa chuckled a little, “I’m coming with you tonight to the auction you know.”

 

She looked up at him, the glowing reflection of the sun on the pool water was making her pale skin appear almost iridescent. Scott was having a hard time meeting her eyes again when he was so distracted by the tiny droplets of water that were clinging to her body.

 

“What?” he was shocked by her brazenness to speak about a mission that they were supposed to be on opposing side of. “Tessa, you can’t come with me. It’s too dangerous for us to be seen there together and besides, they know who you are don’t they?”

 

Scott felt nervous to ask her about her personal history with the Canton syndicate. He didn’t know a lot about what David had done to her but he did know from Marie-France that Tessa had once been auctioned by the Canton Syndicate when she was younger, only to have been rescued by Patrice Lauzon. It was bound to bring back bad memories for her if she went back there and faced the men that did this to her before. Scott didn’t want anything to happen to her.

 

Scott was totally taken by surprise as her cool, damp hand slid brazenly, against his thigh. Her smooth palm brushed up his body and made him gasp slightly, his jaw clenched immediately as he tried to and control himself and his emotions around her. He had to remember that she was his challenger. They had the same job but were on opposing sides, he needed her not to get to him. He didn’t want to give away how much he was affected by her because he knew she would run with it. 

 

“I’ll be absolutely fine Scott, please don’t worry about me.”

 

Her hand slipped off his leg and back into the pool with a small splash. The loss of warmth on his leg tingled as he swished the water around his ankles. Tessa pushed herself up on the side of the pool and he couldn’t help but admire her elegance and grace. Her body was slim but muscular, her arms and legs toned and well defined. She wasn’t tall but her legs seemed to stretch endlessly as she laid out on the side of the pool. Scott knew he was staring but he couldn’t help himself. She was the most stunning person he had even set eyes on. He watched as she walked away from him, her hips swaying from side to side which he knew was for his benefit. He should have stopped watching her but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. He was utterly mesmerised by her prowess and femininity. He shook his head and dived head first into the cold pool. The freezing water sent shockwaves through his body as he dived deeper, trying to shake away all thoughts of Tessa Virtue.

 

_8.42pm_

Grand Hotel Tremezzo, Italy

 

Scott was ready for tonight. As much as it pained him to do so, he was going to have to pose as one of the bidders at tonight’s auction in order to expose the Canton syndicate and get rid of Igor Shpilband once and for all. He was dressed in a crisp black tuxedo, his white dress shirt pressed perfectly with a black bow tie around his neck. He quickly fastened his silver maple leaf cufflinks before he headed downstairs to his Ferrari. He did wonder in the back of his mind whether he would meet Tessa on his way down to the lobby. He really hoped that she wouldn’t attend tonight but he knew that in reality, there was very little that could stop her from getting her revenge on the syndicate and what they put her through.

 

The gravel crunched underneath his black Louboutins, the red sole repeatedly hitting the silver stones as he walked to the garages. The valet was busy assisting another patron as he approached. Scott decided to wait, so he gazed out over the vast lake as the sun was setting. The view was spectacular and the sunset left him feeling exceedingly warm and ready for tonight’s mission. Scott was taken by surprise when he saw Tessa waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. She opened her passenger door for him and stepped gracefully away from the Porsche and right towards where he was standing at the stairs.

 

She looked phenomenal; her body was elegant and smooth in a fitted black dress, the plunging neckline showed off her pale skin across her chest and collarbone. She took off her sunglasses and smiled at him. Scott couldn’t even swallow as he looked at her, she bought her hands to his Tuxedo and smoothed down the lapels, her neatly manicured fingers brushed over his chest as she lingered a little too long. She was that close to him that he could even detect the gentle waft of her sweet floral perfume as it resonated between them. She was simply ethereal and he didn’t know how much longer he could resist the charm that she had turned on. He still hadn’t forgiven her for Moscow and the way she left him there, but his affections towards her had changed since he saw her vulnerabilities in Rio. He had been thinking about her so much recently and despite him having a new girlfriend back in London, he just couldn’t get Tessa Virtue from his mind.

 

His new girlfriend Cassandra was sweet and easy going, he had met her after work in a bar in Waterloo. She was a waitress and worked odd hours but then so did Scott and he liked to chat to her when she finished her shift, then they shared an Uber or picked up some late night fast food. They got on well – she was funny and she had a good sense of humour. Scott needed someone like that because he could be a little childish at heart but also quite volatile when he was angry, so someone needed to temper that side of him. Cassandra was pretty, her hair was dark and shiny, but not as thick as Tessa’s. She had nice blue eyes but they weren’t vibrant green. Before he left for Italy he had seen his girlfriend and told her that he would miss her but he knew that wasn’t strictly true.

 

Cassandra, like all others, was never allowed to know the true nature of his job, but things were very casual between them so he wasn’t too worried about what she thought of his frequent work abroad. Cassandra was also in the dark about who he was going to be with when he was out in Italy. While Scott did like Cassandra and she was good for him, Tessa was like no one else. Tessa was so vibrant and intense, the push and pull of their relationship dragged him in deeper every time he met her and he knew this evening in Italy would be no different. She linked her arm within his and led him to the car. Tessa’s lips grazed softly over his cheek, her hot breath hitting his face as her lips lightly hovered over his own. They pulled away from each other reluctantly as he sat in her passenger seat. Both their eyes were dark, their pupils blown wide and fervent. Scott gripped his suit trousers tightly as Tessa spun the car around and drove them silently into the mountains towards Le Teatro Sociale, where tonight’s auction was to take place.

 

When they arrived, the entrance was obscured by crowds of theatregoers but Tessa navigated the cobbled streets of Como and slid the Porsche discreetly around the side of the building. They needed to have a quick and clean getaway after their work was done. Scott inhaled sharply as he stepped from the car. Both of his guns felt heavy in their holsters when he linked arms with Tessa, her body warm against his as she fit perfectly by his side. He shouldn’t be here with her, she needed the information from Igor just as much as he did and it set him on edge. He still couldn’t fully trust her after Moscow despite the progress he felt they had made in Brazil.

 

Scott stepped up to the theatre, his and Tessa’s footsteps in unison, her right hand rested on his forearm, the silver ring in the centre glinting in the uplighters from the stairs. He pulled his gaze from her beautiful side profile as she stopped to flutter her eyelashes and show their tickets to the bouncer. Scott could hear soft music emanating from the lavish theatre; a sure prelude to tonight’s performance of Georges Bizet’s Carmen. Scott could see the huge Carmen banners around the theatre’s grand entrance hall. The famed tale of lust, unrequited love, passion and tragedy. He tugged Tessa gently as he saw her staring in awe at the theatre’s Greco-Roman frescos lining the lobby.

 

Her green eyes lit up brightly as he led her to a small ornate lift shaft. Scott had secret intelligence that the auction was to be held below the stage in the bowels of the theatre. The opera was about to start and as they found the lift Scott could hear the orchestra begin _Habanera._ The music was so iconic to this performance and Scott felt the hairs on his arms stand on end as he and Tessa entered the dark lift shaft. He called the lift to the basement and as he turned, he was face to face with her, her dark red lips just mere centimetres from his face. All around them the music crooned, the violins, clarinets and oboe all harmonising together to the ultimate crescendo. The temperature in the lift suddenly escalated and she was all around him. Tessa’s presence was suffocating, from the wisps of her hair brushing his cheek, to the blow of her breath of his face as her lips grazed of his.

 

Silently, Scott’s hands found her waist, and he pulled her body flush to his. His mind blanked and his body trembled. Scott grazed his fingers over her cheek, the skin beneath them soft and smooth, before he cupped her chin. He was seconds away from kissing her properly, before the lift abruptly jumped to a halt and signalled their arrival at the basement. Scott reluctantly dropped his hand from her face and earned a frustrated little giggle from Tessa, which was the sweetest music he had ever heard, despite the wonderful opera playing above them. Her nose scrunched up and her brow furrowed as she smiled at him with her head crooked to the side. To Scott’s surprise her lips landed squarely on his cheek before she pulled the door to the lift open and stepped into the auction hall, leaving him to rush after her.

 

They approached two huge bouncers at the door, who stopped them in their tracks.

 

“Nomi per favore.”  The larger of the two men put his hand out to stop them entering the main room. His sandy blond hair was cropped short to his large square head and his blue eyes were piercing. Scott rustled in his jacket pocket for a small folded piece of card – their invitation for the night.  

“ _Si Signore._ _Mi chiamo Giorgio Chantarelli e questa è la mia bellissima moglie Anastasia_ _,_ _”_ Scott winked at Tessa as he addressed her as his wife, but all he received was a sharp dig in the ribs. Thankfully the guard didn’t seem to notice as he was surveying their invitation against a long list of guests. The second guard was eyeing them suspiciously as they waited to enter. Scott could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as his fingers twitched for his gun. He knew Tessa was also tense, he could feel her fingers twine in his but her other hand was settling on her hip within easy reach of her Beretta.

 _  
__“Accogliamo i signori Chantarelli. Spero che tu ottenga tut_ _to ciò che desideri.”_ The guard ushered them through the red velvet curtain and they entered the cavernous room underneath the theatre. The tables were set out around a long walkway, almost like a fashion show. Scott unlinked arms with Tessa, as the pair surveyed the area. Scott noticed that the only way in and out was through the same door and lift that they entered in from. Scott slipped his fingers through Tessa’s and led her to a table where they awaited the start of the auction.

** sex trafficking warning ** 

 

The room was silent as Igor stood at his table. He was dressed in a black dinner suit, his dark hair coiffed perfectly. His fingers curled around champagne flute as he proposed a toast. Both Tessa and Scott, were stunned to see him in such good health after his little ‘car accident’ earlier today. Igor silenced the room to begin the bidding.

 

“Tonight, we have two special women that I want to introduce to you. They are perfect American Specimens and will fetch exceedingly good money for you. I’ll have them lead out the girls and then we can start the auction.”

 

Scott looked over at Tessa who had sunk her Martini already and was fiddling with her fingers, absentmindedly spinning the ring on her middle finger as she looked over at Scott. No matter how much training they had, nothing could prepare her for this. She had been here, in this position. She had been one of these girls who had been sold at auction to the highest bidder. If it had not been for Patrice Lauzon, who knows what might have happened to her. Scott felt sick just thinking about it. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Tessa felt.

 

Scott reached for her and placed his hand over hers, softly stroking the back of her hand and trying to reassure and soothe her. The lights dimmed in the cavernous room and everyone was silent except for the music echoing from above. The sound of Carmen emanated down into the vast room. A spotlight shone onto the stage as the first woman was lead out. She looked pale and terrified, her dark hair perfectly styled but she looked so uncomfortable wearing a very revealing dress. She was led to the front of the stage and asked to turn for the crowd. Igor piped up again.

 

“I will start the bidding for Madison Chock at €90,000 euros. She is 21 and an excellent dancer.” His crooked smile was sleazy as he stared at the frightened girl before him.

 

Igor carried on, “The second woman that comes as part of tonight’s deal is an Asian beauty. Maia Shibutani is one of the world’s leading figure skaters and would make an excellent jewel in anyone’s collection.”

 

Out into the stage, another girl was pulled out to stand next to her. She stood next to her companion, eyes were wide like a rabbit in the headlights. Her body trembled as she looked out to the crowd of people looking up at them.

 

A few murmurs from the crowd dissipated before the bidding frenzy began. Scott held his breath and felt for his gun under his jacket. His eyes caught Tessa’s – they had a plan. In silence an older gentleman behind Scott raised his paddle.

 

“€150,000 euros” the man’s thick Eastern European accent was grating and terse as he bid for the two women.

 

In quick succession paddles raised all around the room, rocketing the cost of the women up to €450,000. Tessa reached for her paddle.

 

“€500,000,” her voice was clear and crisp. Her accent was unrecognisable as she disguised her voice. It was time. There was silence after her bid. The room blanketed under a cloak of expectation.

 

Igor was back on the podium now and Scott’s heart thumped rapidly. “Do we have €500,000? Going once, going twice. Sold to the highest bidder. My dear, if you’ll come forward and then I can give you instructions on how to collect these girls.”

 

Tessa stared at Scott for a moment before she stood up at the side of the table, he could feel her pulse was rapid where his hand circled her wrist. Her skin was clammy despite the cool air in the room.

 

Tessa stared at Scott, her eyes widening as she realised she would have to face Igor. It was time. Scott let go of her hand and watched her walk slowly to the front of the stage. Scott slid his hands into the inside of his jacket, finding his guns. Time seemed to pause as he watched Tessa walk to the stage, a thunder of applause rung out around the room. Scott wasn’t surprised, she looked phenomenal and her dress left little to the imagination. Scott couldn’t wait to take out all the perverts in the room. Igor whispered something in Tessa’s ear before he led her over it Madison and Maia. Scott held his breath awaiting Tessa’s gunshot.

 

One, two, three. The click of the trigger, the hammer on the bullet and the crack of metal piercing flesh. Scott leapt from his crouched position and took out all the guards that were descending on the small room. Everyone else was screaming and cowering on the floor.

 

“Tess take the girls!” Scott tossed her the silver clutch bag that was lying on their table with her car keys. He watched as she grabbed the girls’ hands and sped towards the lift shaft. More guards rushed in the back of the room, which Scott quickly dispatched. He looked up and saw the black of Tessa’s dress disappear through the door. He knew she would get the girls out safely. He walked over to where Igor was lying. Blood pooled from a single bullet wound to his forehead. Tessa was a fantastic shot. Scott wasted no time rifling through Igor’s pockets. He needed something, anything they would give them some intelligence about Marina’s whereabouts. Scott picked up a discarded smartphone and pressed Igor’s thumb to the keypad to unlock it. He swapped the SIM cards efficiently and pocketed both the phone and the SIM. He couldn’t find anything else until he came upon a tattered piece of paper with what looked like coordinates. He folded that up and put it in the back of his wallet for later. Scott heard the lift creak and the sound of Italian shouting getting louder. He jumped up and hid in the shadows near the door waiting to escape. Two huge men burst through the doors with their guns aloft but Scott was quick enough to fire a shot to each of them temples and watch them crumple in a heaps on the floor. He made for the lift shaft and headed for the surface, the thunder of operatic music reaching a climax around him.

 

 

Scott ran down the steps of the theatre, the crescendo of Carmen coming to an end with _Toreador_ radiating all around them. Scott watched the girls run down to Tessa’s waiting car. He spun round to fire some shots at their pursuers, one hit the guard straight in the chest. Tessa’s car screeched across the cobbles and Scott slipped into the passenger seat as she hit the accelerator and drove out towards the lake. Scott’s body was on fire, the adrenaline coursed through his veins. In the back seat, Maia and Madison looked like frightened rabbits, their bodies were huddled together and their eyes were wide. His hands carded through his hair as sweat beaded on his forehead. His breathing was laboured and his hands sweating. He slipped his gun back into his jacket as soon as he knew they were clear of their pursuers.

 

Tessa seemed as calm and collected as ever, she simply stared ahead on the road as they snaked their way around the lake back to the hotel. The drive was around an hour but Scott wasn’t sure how they would make it. The energy in the car was electric, after their assassination of Igor and the chase to escape the theatre, Scott knew what he felt. He looked over at Tessa and he knew she felt it too. He wanted to reach out and touch the bare skin on her back that was glistening with a sheen of sweat. He wanted to caress her body with his hands and mouth and make her sing as he pushed her body to the limit. He wanted to feel her eager and responsive below him as he fucked her hard. He was a shaking mess after this kill and the way she had looked at him in the lift was the only real encouragement he needed. His mind was whirring, his hand tempted to reach out and hold hers. He needed to feel the warmth of her skin against his, but he was worried how he would react. Could he keep his feelings supressed if they gave in to their basest of desires?

 

He knew he was overthinking this but she wasn’t just anyone anymore, she was Tessa and he was sure that she took little parts of his soul every time they met. He looked over at her and her head turned as she felt his eyes on her. She smirked cockily at him, it was as though she could sense his thoughts when her hand left the steering wheel and brushed over the inseam of his tuxedo trousers, not too high but just over his inner thigh; enough to make him need to pinch the bridge of his nose and breathe deeply. My god he was in trouble, especially if this journey was going to last another 40 minutes.

 

** Explicit content **

 

11th May 2013

_1.30 am_

 

It was late and he was pacing his suite. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, should he go and tell her how he felt or go and see her before leaving Italy tomorrow? When she had left him she had smiled so seductively, Scott’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. His cock was so hard in his trousers but he didn’t want to debase her by making her an object of his sexual desires; he wanted to make her feel good too. The whisky hit the back of his throat, numbing his mind as he paced. The warm breeze from the balcony cooled the oppressive room while the clock struck 1am. Scott was lost, but his ears pricked up when he heard a gentle rapping at the door to his suite. He was in two minds to answer as it was so late but curiosity got the better of him. As he inched the door open he was struck with wide green eyes, Tessa was standing before him, still wearing just a short black silk dressing gown, tied with a tight silk sash, a sliver of skin from her chest a clean contrast to the black silky fabric.

 

“May I come in?” Tessa smiled as Scott realised that he had just been standing there like a statue.

 

“Oh, yes of course,” He stepped sideways and held the door open to her as she entered his suite. He swirled the whisky around in his glass and gazed back at the stunning woman standing in the middle of his suite surveying the area. He smirked at her agent behaviour.

 

“Tessa, would you like a drink?” He motioned to the cut glass whisky tumbler that was currently in his hand.

 

“Don’t mind if I do Moir.” The words rolled off her tongue, her bright red lips contrasted her white teeth as she flashed them at him. He watched as she turned on her heels and walked towards the balcony. Her delicate feet slipped gently out of her high-heeled black court shoes and onto the plush sheepskin rug. Scott turned away reluctantly to decant her whisky from the sideboard, his hand shook a little as he poured. She was not helping the situation right now. His trousers might have felt tight before, but now it felt as though all his clothes were restricting his body.

 

He turned to pass her the drink and he almost dropped the glass in surprise. While he had poured her drink, Tessa had stepped out of her black silk robe and was standing in front of him in a black lace bodysuit, that was so sheer, he could see every part of her gorgeous body beneath the flimsy material. The edges of her pert pink nipples drew his immediate gaze before he quickly looked up at her eyes which were shining like diamonds in the low light.

 

“Ermm Tessa, are you ok?” He really had no idea what to say to the half-naked woman in his living room.

 

She simply ignored him walked towards him as if nothing had changed, taking the whisky tumbler from his outstretched hand and downing the contents. The cool amber liquid dribbled slightly down her chin and onto her pale chest. Scott swallowed hard, his jaw clenched and his hand in a fist by his side. After draining her drink she simply gazed at him with her emerald eyes before walking to slam down the glass on the mahogany drinks cabinet.

 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Scott dropped his drink and enveloped Tessa in his arms, her lean body colliding with his as he pulled her in for a searing kiss. As their bodies struck, he didn’t even notice the glass shattering beneath his feet; he was consumed by Tessa and the taste of the whisky on her tongue, the scent of her floral perfume mixed with the tang of sweat and the warmth of her skin.

 

Scott pressed his mouth against the soft part of her neck, when he heard the sweet mewls and whimpers that escaped her mouth he continued his pursuit of pleasure, by sliding his tongue over her lace covered nipple. He sucked her softly at first before grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth. Her fingers tightened their grip on his hair and her lower body ground suggestively against him. His head was fuzzy and numb with whisky and the taste of Tessa. Her perfect skin and her little moans were all he could feel and hear. Scott slid his hands down the back of her body and cupped her arse, lifting her up onto him and letting her wrap her legs around him. There was absolutely no space between them, the heat of their bodies emanated onto one another. His hands held her thighs firmly, as their mouths found each other’s again. Their kisses growing in desperation as they gave in to the feelings that had been circulating ever since they first met in Moscow. Scott was never usually this forward but he was driven and he wanted to give her the world. He wanted to open her up, to see beneath her hard exterior and make her feel limitless.

 

He was still wary of her intentions after the last time they tried this but somehow it felt different this time. She felt less in control and more pliable; her whole body trembled against him as her teeth pressed into his neck. Scott felt like his knees might buckle and he didn’t want to drop her so he carried them over to the ornate dresser at the side of the suite and sat her down. Her dexterous fingers quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt as he slipped from his trousers, leaving both garments in a heap on the floor.

 

His attention was drawn back to Tessa, his large hands running up her back as he stepped between the circle of her legs. Her body was slim but her muscles hard beneath the black lace as his palm flattened against her abdomen. Scott fingers trailed lower making Tessa moan and bite her lip. His fingers brushed right over her core; the black lace damp with her arousal made his jaw clench in anticipation as he felt how ready for him she was. Emboldened by her evident excitement and her encouraging _yes Scott,_ he popped the fastenings on her body suit and exposed her to his eager gaze. Scott stopped as he gently glided his fingertips over her, watching her shiver and squirm when he tickled her in the right places. She felt even better beneath his fingers than her could have ever imagined, she was warm and needy, willing him to push her further and further as his fingers skirted around her. All their barriers were now broken down and their intimacy was boundless as Scott pushed two fingers inside her tight wet heat. Her body responded perfectly to the delightful intrusion as she released a low moan and rocked her hips against his hand.

 

The fingers on Scott’s other hand pressed into her taut hips as he pulled her body flush with his, their lips only parting for a few seconds to catch their breath as he picked up the pace to her cries. He had an idea, one that had shamefully flashed across his mind when he saw her in that red swimsuit yesterday. He wanted to taste her, to see how a she truly tasted. Would she taste as exquisite as he imagined? His mouth moved to gently caress her freckled neck and collarbone, while he moved his fingers down from her hips and inside her thighs, where her pale skin was soft as velvet. Her skin tasted divine, spiced and warm and so soft under his tender lips. He wrapped his lips around her hard lace covered nipple, making her cry out in pleasure. The sound made his stomach clench and his cock throb. He needed her so desperately that he was worried he wouldn’t last long at all. With his fingers skilfully pumping inside her, he moved his mouth further down her sweet body, his lips and teeth marking the delicate skin over her stomach ~~,~~ that was exposed from her bodysuit.

 

Scott moved his mouth and nose further down her body, inhaling her intoxicating scent as he passed over the juncture between her body and thighs. He lifted his dark hazel eyes up to look at her. Her head was thrown back against the wall, her pert breasts heaved with ragged breaths, and her pale skin shimmered with growing perspiration. Scott smiled when he saw how flushed her cheeks were, he loved that he was her undoing. He loved that the perfectly in control Agent Virtue ~~,~~ was losing all her control to the ministrations of a rival Agent.

 

She looked utterly ravishing and Scott couldn’t wait to push her right over the edge and let her fall willingly into the abyss. He moved his gaze back to her centre, she was swollen and pink, perfectly ready for him to make her feel incredible. He removed his fingers from her, much to her annoyance and earning him a hard glare from her pensive green eyes. Then he tentatively reached forward and swiped his tongue over her. Her taste was indescribable; she was floral yet tangy, musky but sweet. How could anyone be this perfect? He couldn’t get enough of her. Her knuckles on her left hand were white as she gripped the side of the dresser, her muscular legs dangling over the edge, with Scott crouched between her thighs. Her desperate mewls and moans were enough encouragement, as were the fingers of her right hand fisting his hair to hold his head closer to her.

 

He gently inserted his tongue deep within her, feeling her velvety soft beneath him, the taste and smell of her overwhelming his senses. She was screaming, crying and wriggling beneath him, his hands had to press her hips down to stop her wildly grinding against his face. This strong beautiful woman was coming undone in the most stunning way. He felt her tense and shake as her climax wracked her body. He could hear her melodic voice rattling with lust as she cried out his name in short bursts. He was wary that the whole of the hotel could hear her and he didn’t want to wake Madison and Maia and have them coming to look for her.

 

Even as she quivered beneath his tongue, he carried on lapping at her, just making her squirm with sensitivity. The grip of her fingers on his head was bordering on painful. Tessa was still shuddering as he looked up at her, her bright eyes were now dark green and hooded with desire. Her skin was so flushed that he could barely make out her freckles. Scott smiled as he watched her laboured breathing. Tessa’s once bright red lips were wet and parted as she gazed down at him, her eyes lustful and wanting.

 

Scott stood up and Tessa took a moment to regain her composure before she gracefully hopped off the dresser and reached for his hand; their fingers tangled between each other’s like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He let her lead him over to the vast bed that dominated the room. Her hands grazed down his chest and over his abdomen, her warm palms pressing into the hard muscle. Her eyes flitted between his well-toned body and his face. Tessa was back and she was in charge. She pushed him back onto the bed with very little effort on her part; he was a willing participant in her power play. Scott laid back on the soft comforter, expecting her to tumble onto the bed with him, but instead he immediately felt her absence. He lifted his head and watched as Tessa turned and walked back into the living room. His fists clenched – she couldn’t be leaving him now, could she? He had just seen her at her most open and vulnerable, he had watched as she climaxed, sweet words of admiration pouring from her lips.

 

“Tess?” He called out. He needed to know that she wasn’t leaving him. He didn’t want to seem like he had developed a complex but one couldn’t be too careful after she had traumatised him by leaving him in a toilet cubicle in some unknown area of Moscow.

 

“T?” He called as she wandered back through into the bedroom, she was now totally naked and Scott gazed at her as she walked back over to him. Her body tight and athletic, the muscles of her back and shoulders well-defined as she flexed her muscles to crawl onto the bed with him. Her belly button sparkled with a small jewel as he admired her curves.

 

“Patience Agent Moir. I had to go and get something.” She chastised him in the softest fashion, her words gentle and teasing. Scott looked up at her and noticed the black silk tie from her gown that she was wearing earlier. He gulped back the saliva that was stuck in his throat.

 

“I want to tie you up.” Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she spoke the words that had his cock standing to attention. He was getting a real glimpse of Tessa Virtue. The room was silent as they stared each other down for a moment, the atmosphere between them was exhilarating.

 

“Ok.” His voice came out like a whisper but it was enough for Tessa to gather the silk and crawl over the bed to rest by his shoulders.

 

“Arms up and wrists together,” she instructed him and Scott dared not disobey. He placed his hands over his head and held his wrists together as Tessa leant over him and tied the sash tightly around his hands. The soft material was tight enough to dig into his skin but not too tight to restrict blood flow. He felt thrillingly helpless as he tried to move from the bindings but couldn’t. Tessa winked at him as she straddled his body, leaving a trail of her moisture on his tanned skin as she shimmied lower and lower. Her delightful mouth was now moving further down his hard body, over the planes of his chest where her soft lips made him shiver with delight. Tessa was mirroring his adoring assault of her body, her teeth and lips nipped and sucked patches of skin on his stomach, abdomen and groin. She reached his erection and took him in her warm hands, the feeling of her gripping him sent pleasure running through his veins. Scott couldn’t help but moan and wriggle against his bindings as she sent these electric pulses through his body. He groaned as she pumped his thick length, from base to tip, squeezing out tiny white droplets onto her hand. He thought he might explode as she leant forward and licked the droplets away from the head of his smooth cock. Their eyes met and he couldn’t believe what he was watching. Agent Virtue was on her hands and knees between his thighs, her lush lips tightly squeezing around his hard cock. He twisted his hands against the silk tie as she took more and more of him in her mouth.

 

“Oh god…Tess.” He groaned, his eyes were tightly shut as she slid him in and out of her mouth, her tongue swirled over his swollen head and her hands caressed him gently. He could feel that he was close, she had already edged him enough when he was buried between her thighs. He didn’t want her to do anything that she didn’t want to.

 

“T, I’m going to come.” His words were just a whisper between panted breaths ~~,~~ as his body tingled beneath her mouth. He looked down at her and knew that she wasn’t going to stop. Her palm splayed against his hips to keep her control, her mouth clamped down on him even harder as she sped up her efforts. The fire built deep in Scott’s groin and rumbled down his legs as his cum shot out in thick spurts into her mouth. Tessa swallowed eagerly, her eyes closed and her cheeks hollowed. He felt so sensitive after he had finished and she was still kissing him. Scott closed his eyes and the next thing he knew she was standing above the bed looking down at him.

 

“Stay with me?” He needed to ask her because he didn’t want them to be apart after what they had just done. He wanted to be with her and to hold her tired and spent body in his arms. She leant upwards and untangled his tie before slotting herself tightly against his side. She pulled the downy comforter from the end of the bed, up and over their naked bodies. Her tiny breaths were a visible sign of her distress and possible guilt after their acts but Scott buried his face in her soft, dark hair and kissed her forehead to reassure her. Sleep came to him faster than her can ever remember as Tessa nestled herself in to the crook of his shoulder and closed her own eyes. Her body was warm and comforting against his, his thumb grazed over her hip and abdomen in soothing circles as the illegitimacy of their actions was pushed to the side in favour of a growing love and respect.

 

11th May 2013

_10.25 am_

 

The bright light shone through the open balcony, the curtains flapped in the breeze, sending cool winds into the room. Scott felt goosebumps prickle over his body as he stirred from his sleep. He expected to turn and find Tessa’s body pressed against his own but the sheets were empty all around him. He was a little bemused as to why she had left and not said anything. When did she creep out of his embrace? He felt a little hurt by her actions, although he didn’t blame her. Their affair was more than just frowned upon, the activities they had engaged in were illicit in their line of work. He stretched his hands above his head, before moving to get out of bed and into the shower. Scott soon found that he was unable to move, when his left wrist was handcuffed to the metal frame of the headboard.

 

“ _Tessa_!” he screamed out in the empty room in frustration. She had done it again. He shook his head in disbelief. His free right hand rubbed his eyes to wake him up a little more and push his hair back from his face. This was going to be a very embarrassing call to the reception desk or Marie-France. He tutted and rolled his eyes at the thought of Marie-France finding him like this. Why would she have done this again? Then he remembered that he was the one to take the map and phone from Igor when he killed him. He would put all his money on her having stolen them.

 

He looked on his side table, where there was a battered copy of Northanger Abbey. Confused, Scott reached out for the book that he didn’t remember being there last night. Inside the cover was a hastily scribbled note in Tessa’s cursive handwriting. Below her note were the co-ordinates that were on the paper he took from Igor’s wallet. Tessa had willingly given him the first clue to finding Marina, which meant she wanted him there with her. Despite his current predicament, this felt like a win. Tessa Virtue was such an enigma and Scott felt like he had made a giant leap towards cracking her code.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you liked/disliked - I appreciate all and every comment :)


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